Perfect Symmetry
by Liam the lemming
Summary: Dave's senior year starts falling apart at the seams when an anonymous interloper outs him when he's only one step away from coming out on his own. How will he cope? More importantly, how will everyone else?
1. What I Do, That Will Be Done To Me

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters or anything. If I did, Max would be a season regular and Dave's story would be given the attention it needs. Hmph.  
>NOTE: This fic is a bit of a departure from my first effort, and gives Dave kinda a rough time. Sorry. I guess I'm getting my angst on in DaveMax's absence._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: What I Do, That Will Be Done To Me<strong>

Senior Year was going well for Dave Karofsky.

He'd come to terms with his sexuality and, even though he was still not out, he'd become friends with Kurt over the course of the PFFLAG meetings. They weren't quite best friends, but they enjoyed each other's company enough to like spending time together.

Or, at least, that would have been true for Dave if he already didn't want to spend every waking moment with Kurt. It had taken Kurt's departure to Dalton for Dave to realize just how much he felt for Kurt. The way everything felt gray and empty in Kurt's absence could only mean one thing: Dave was utterly lovestruck. He'd accepted, however, that the likelihood of a relationship with Kurt was pretty much zero, barring a miracle.

He aimed for friendship instead - and he easily hit the target. He and Kurt got along brilliantly, to the point where they even discussed private things like how Kurt occasionally found himself decrying his skincare regimen as a time sink in his more impatient moments, and how Dave had, in retrospect, only watched The Social Network and Friends With Benefits because he _still_ had a bit of a crush on Justin Timblerlake.

It's not exactly like he could share _that_ tidbit with anyone else.

Kurt found himself marveling at Dave's intellect. Dave still gave the impression of being a typical jock, but beneath the facade he was surprisingly smart. His grades were high, and Kurt was reminded of his dad once pointing out in Principal Figgins' office that Dave typically achieved A or B grades for his work. When it was just the two of them, Dave would occasionally drop a polysyllabic grenade into a discussion - a habit that had, at first, stopped Kurt in his tracks. Nowadays, however, Kurt merely smirked at Dave's occasional use of "unnecessarily extraneous grandiloquence", as he'd once described it to Kurt's astonishment.

"Oh, _come on!_" spluttered Kurt incredulously. "Now you're just showboating!"

"What good are syllables, if you can't use a whole bunch of them at once?" grinned Dave. Kurt couldn't help but giggle in response.

The closer Dave and Kurt got, the more seriously he found himself considering coming out. He'd even started planning an order - ideally he'd tell his parents first, but he was smart enough to accept there was too much of a risk of being thrown out. He had to find a place to stay before he told them. After that, it'd be Azimio, the rest of the team, then probably the school. As for everyone else, they could find out from anyone - by that point, it'd be moot.

But that first outing was the big stumbling block - coming out to someone who'd offer him a roof over his head if things went sour when he told his parents. Try as he might, he just couldn't come up with a solution.

* * *

><p>Then fate intervened.<p>

"Karofsky!" cried Jacob Ben Israel, running up to him in the corridor. He sounded worried. "Karofsky, wait up!"

Dave was surprised, to say the least. What could Ben Israel want with him? Wait, did he...? Nah. He couldn't possibly know. "What is it?" he sighed impatiently. "I was just headed home."

"You might wanna get there quick," gasped Jacob, recovering his breath. "I think someone's trying to out you."

The corridor seemed to darken slightly. The colors looked suddenly more muted, too. Apparently, he could _definitely_ know. And _him?_ Sweet cured Jesus on rye, why _him?_

"Trying to _what?_" he growled defensively. Maybe he'd misheard.

"Out you," repeated Jacob. He paused, very briefly, and urgently clarified his point. "Not me, I swear!" he spluttered.

"And how _exactly_ would they do this?" challenged Dave. Ben Israel was being persistent. Was there evidence? Actual concrete proof? _How?_

"There's a bunch of pics of you apparently looking at guys. Like, _that_ way," he added.

"Show me," snarled Dave. Jacob cued the pictures on his phone and handed it over.

"There's no point in destroying the phone," urged Jacob, keen not to lose a good handset to Dave's wrath. "Wherever the pictures came from, these can't be the only copies."

Dave skimmed through the pics of him being, as it turned out, a lot more relaxed about where he parked his eyeballs than he'd thought. He'd glanced at Finn. Puck. Mike. In one of the photos, he even noticed Puck looking at some passing chick in exactly the same way that Dave was looking at him.

"Delete them," he growled, sounding angry but feeling terrified.

"Already decided to," assured Jacob. "I don't _want_ these, I can't do anything with them. If I did, I'd end up being a smear on the wall."

Dave stared at him as though he could hold him in position using only the power of sight. "Good. Remember that," he snarled. "Where did you get them?"

"Anonymous submission," pleaded Jacob. "No bullshit! I tried to track it down, but the trail leads nowhere. A dropbox account set up with a Mailinator email address. It could be anyone," he shrugged helplessly.

_It could be anyone._ He was screwed. Whoever had done this, they'd been careful to leave no trace. Nobody to intercept. He had a better shot at stopping the rain.

Not the best thought to precede a mighty clap of thunder. The day just couldn't become any more ominous.

"You better get home," advised Jacob. "Whoever's trying to out you at school probably has your folks in mind too. You'd better try to beat them to it if you can."

Dave nodded, desperately trying to think a few steps ahead, working out how to handle school tomorrow, what to tell his parents, what to do if the worst happens...

The worst. What _was_ the worst? Kicked out of his home? Kicked off the football team? Beaten to within an inch of his life? How bad could this get? His blood ran cold as he contemplated the countless ways this could undo him.

"Thanks for doing this," he replied meekly. "You didn't have to bring this to me. You could have just let it unravel and have me walk into the explosion blindfold."

"I just wanted to make sure I didn't get the blame for this," explained Jacob. "If the photos come to me, that makes me a suspect. No thanks," he shuddered.

Dave's eyes narrowed in disgust. "Should have known," he grunted, shaking his head as he turned and left. "Remember - delete the photos!" he barked to the figure behind him as he picked up speed.

"Already done!" called Jacob from the distance. "Good luck with your folks!" he added.

Dave couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or not.

He hoped not.

* * *

><p>The rain was heavy enough that he was drenched by the time he'd reached the front door from his truck. He almost couldn't bring himself to enter... but he knew he had to face this or never come home again.<p>

His parents were waiting for him in the front room. His dad was holding a stack of paper. There was an envelope nearby... they were the photos he'd seen on Ben Israel's phone. They had to be. His mom had clearly been crying.

And his dad looked angry.

So much for luck.

"Something you want to tell us, David?" queried Paul, his voice steady but his glare so piercing Dave almost wanted to run and hide.

"I've wanted to for a while," explained Dave.

"How _magnanimous_ of you," seethed Paul.

"I couldn't figure out how to say it," pleaded Dave.

"How about 'Dad, I'm gay'?" spat Paul angrily. "It's really not that hard!"

"Are you kidding me?" cried Dave, his disbelief at his father's blasé attitude to coming out loosing his tongue. "When the guys at school find out about this, they'll beat the shit out of me! How was I supposed to come to you about this? How was I supposed to tell _anyone_?"

"You didn't even _try_, David!" retorted Paul furiously. "How long have you known? _How long?_"

"Too long! _Way_ too long!" exclaimed Dave emotionally. "I've had to deal with this _alone_ for over a year!"

"Don't you _dare_ try to make this about you!" growled Paul indignantly. "You think that pleading misery makes this all okay? _You lied to us_, David! You lied to us for a whole _year!_ Even in front of the principal, the teachers, the Hummels..." The fact that Dave had lied to Paul in front of authority figures, in _public_, no less, only served to compound his wrongdoing in his father's eyes.

"I was _scared_, okay?" wailed Dave hoarsely. "I never wanted to keep this from you! God, I rehearsed it over and over a hundred different ways and every single one of them felt like I was letting you down! The last thing I wanted was to let you down again!" he pleaded, his throat constricting as tears formed in his eyes.

"Too bad, David - you _have_," retaliated Paul in condemnation. "I may have been able to come to terms with having a gay son eventually, but a gay son who lies to us _so easily_, day after day after day?"

Dave's temper snapped at the accusation that one single moment of the past year had been easy. "It was _never_ easy!" he howled bitterly. "I _hated_ keeping this from everyone! The past year's been fucking _torture_ for me! I wanted to tell you!" he repeated, desperate to get the point across.

But his efforts were in vain. "I don't care, David! It's too late!" insisted Paul, blinded by the perceived deceit. "I can't even bear to _look_ at you right now - get out! Just go!" he demanded.

The words were like a knife to Dave's stomach. His worst fears had come to pass; he was being thrown out of his home as a result of his parents discovering he was gay. The fight suddenly deserted him, and he bowed his head in defeat. He took his house keys out of his pocket, placed them on a nearby ledge and plodded miserably to the front door for what felt like the last time.

The rain hadn't let up while he'd been indoors, and it began to soak in again as he closed the front door behind him. He slouched, dazed, to his truck, got in... and burst into uncontrollable sobbing as though grief-stricken.

He'd lost his family. He'd lost his home. Tomorrow he'd likely lose all of his friends.

No. Not all. There was one. One would stand by him.

One friend might just get him through the days to come.

* * *

><p>Dave's presence, unannounced and unexpected, was a surprise in itself to Burt, but his appearance was positively distressing.<p>

"Hi Burt," murmured Dave. "Uh... is Kurt in?"

Burt was staggered by the state Dave was in. "Jesus, Dave, you're soaked!" he gasped. "Come in out of the rain."

Dave took stock of his sodden clothing as though taking in something new. "...I hadn't even noticed," he mumbled as he stepped inside.

Burt could see there was something terribly wrong. "What's wrong, kid?" he asked.

"I... I don't have anywhere to go," stammered Dave, his eloquence failing him.

Kurt appeared, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected sound of Dave's voice. "Dave? Dave, what's happened?" he gasped. "You look terrible!"

Dave saw no point in hiding anything any longer. "Someone got to my mom and dad before I could tell them," he explained plainly.

"Tell them what?" asked Kurt. The realization struck him barely a second later. "Oh no," he moaned in dismay. "Oh Dave, no," he whimpered, shaking his head as his hand covered his mouth in horror at the news of his friend's sudden catastrophe. He felt his eyes reddening.

"Dad told me to get out," explained Dave in a timid tone. "I've got nowhere," he confessed.

Kurt suddenly found something for his resolve to stiffen around. "You've got here," he insisted, determinedly. "Dad?" he asked, more for agreement than permission.

It wasn't even a question. "Absolutely," nodded Burt. "I mean, all we can offer you is the sofa, but..." he shrugged.

Dave's relief was so emphatic it almost had _texture_. "It's enough. Really. Thanks," he sighed in relief.

Burt realized he was missing a few pieces. "What did they find out, exactly?" he asked.

Dave saw no reason to hide it any longer. It'd be all over town within a week. Maybe even sooner. "That I'm gay," he gulped. Even knowing everyone would soon know, it was still difficult to say it.

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Dave, you don't have to..." he started.

Burt interrupted, mildly outraged by the revelation. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he demanded. "Hold on a second. Just so I got this right... you picked on Kurt for being gay, even thought you were _too_?" His expression darkened.

"Dad, not the time!" cried Kurt desperately. The last thing he needed was his dad to flip out _now_.

"Not for that!" insisted Dave defensively. "And I already apologized for all of that. I picked on him for being braver than me." He looked at Kurt as though acknowledging the presence of a hero. "He was strong enough to be out, and I envied that strength. I shouldn't have picked on him, I just... I had no idea how to cope with any of it," he admitted weakly, shaking his head dismally.

Kurt's heart went out to the helpless jock. "Dad, he's tortured himself enough over this," he rebuked. "He doesn't need you laying into him too, it'll do more harm than good."

Burt paused. Finally, he spoke. "I can't say I'm happy about it," he grunted.

"Of course not," assured Kurt. "But I've long since forgiven him, so please. He and I have been friends since summer. Please, don't turn on him now," he begged. "He needs someone. He needs _us_."

Burt considered Kurt's plea for a moment. "Fair enough, Kurt," he decided finally. "If you're willing to defend him, that says enough for me."

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. Dave felt welcome enough to take off his jacket. It was drenched, but it had saved him from the worst of the rain. "I'll go over to the Karofsky house and bring some clothes back with me," declared Kurt. "I might just tear a strip off his folks while I'm there," he muttered angrily.

Burt's eyes rolled. "That's not gonna help, Kurt," he sighed. He knew his son's emotions would run high over the issue, but giving both barrels to Dave's folks wouldn't help things at all.

Kurt thought otherwise. "Oh, _please_ tell me how this could get any worse!" he snapped. "They turfed out their son for being gay!"

Dave found himself defending them. "Actually, it was more that I'd lied to them for so long," he explained. "I let them down again," he observed sadly.

Kurt wouldn't hear it. "Dave, stop that!" he demanded. "As much as I tried to encourage you to come out, you had to come to it in your own time. You would have told them yourself, eventually. They have to see that," he urged.

"After everything else?" queried Dave. "I think this was the last straw."

"That doesn't excuse this," growled Kurt furiously. "It doesn't come close."

Burt nodded. "I'm with Kurt," he announced. "I can understand why you were so scared to tell them. Hell, Kurt kept it from me for however long, and I just waited patiently until he was ready to tell me."

Kurt's mood lightened a little at his own dad's understanding approach. He'd been so lucky.

"He's lucky to have you," Dave noted, as if reading Kurt's mind. Kurt's jaw dropped as he said it. He exhaled sharply at the coincidence.

"Well, don't you worry," Burt assured him. "You're safe here, son."

_Son_. The word hit Dave like a cannonball to the chest. He looked Burt in the eyes, the tears began to spill, and before he could stop himself he was bawling his heart out. Kurt's heart ached for him, and he threw his arms tightly around him. Burt, too, placed a supportive hand upon Dave's shoulder. He'd be safe here. He'd have somewhere to be.

But it wasn't home.

He no longer had that.

* * *

><p>Kurt stood outside the Karofsky house, having just rung the bell. His mind was a swirling cocktail of barbs and vitriol. He didn't want to lay into these people with mere language. He wanted to hit them. He actually wanted to physically assault them for what they'd done to his friend.<p>

He couldn't figure out what it was about the situation that had made him so angry. The injustice, most probably. Also, picking on someone for a thing about themselves which they'd already suffered a _lot_ for. Yeah, that was a pretty unpalatable one right there. And aren't parents supposed to love their kids? And aren't kids supposed to make mistakes now and then?

There was so much wrong with this whole thing Kurt barely knew where to begin.

Paul looked pensive as he opened the door to Kurt, but bristled slightly as he took in the sight before him. This _boy_ that Dave had bullied. Was that why? Had the Hummel boy done something to Dave? It didn't excuse any of it, but...

Kurt jolted Paul out of his thoughts. "Your son's on our sofa, crying his heart out," he snapped. "The least I can do is pick up some clothes for him."

Paul was wounded by the idea of his son in such distress, but couldn't see beyond the betrayal. "His room's upstairs, first on the right," he directed impassively.

_His room._ That didn't escape Kurt's attention. They still thought of it as though Dave lived there. He saw an open wound and went in for the kill. "His room? Surely you mean the guest quarters?" he retorted acidly as he made his way upstairs. He didn't look back to see the impact his barb left on Paul.

If he had, he'd have noticed the haunted expression. Paul had yet to take in the full impact of the fallout, and certainly hadn't considered the real possibility that he may have lost his son for good. He didn't know what to feel about that. He wanted to know what to feel. Indignant? Devastated? Guilty? Angry?

All he knew was that he and Helen missed their son dreadfully... but he no longer felt like their son to them. He felt like a stranger. Like he'd been pretending to be this person they knew, and now he was... who _was_ he?

Could you even lose a son if you felt you never really had him in the first place?

Upstairs, Kurt was packing up an assortment of Dave's clothes. He was trying not to be his usual judgmental fashionista self, but surrounded by these misshapen crimes against fabric and tailoring, it wasn't easy.

Dave already had his letterman. He wasn't losing that. It was a part of him.

_For how long?_ mused Kurt. _Is he going to be kicked off the team when word gets around?_

He tried not to think of the struggles Dave was yet to face. He packed an assortment of tops and jeans, and suddenly realized he'd have to handle his underwear. He'd have to touch... Dave's... underwear. He blushed. It wouldn't _mean_ anything, but still, his... his...

The blushing intensified.

He gulped and tried not to think of _anything_. He scooped Dave's _...these things have touched his... his __**dick**__!_ ...from out of a chest of drawers, along with his socks and a handful of handkerchiefs.

He'd certainly need _those_, what with the state he was in when Kurt had left.

He grabbed a few other items he knew Dave would need - charging cables for gadgets, mostly - and called Dave to make sure there weren't any important things he'd missed. Once he'd assured himself he had everything Dave would need for now, he grabbed the huge duffel bag he'd packed everything into and headed downstairs.

Paul and Helen were still in the living room, seemingly taking in the events of the evening. Paul still had one vital question for Kurt before he left, and made his way to the stairs as he heard Kurt coming down.

"Is he safe?" he asked.

Kurt glared at Paul. "It's a suburban house, not a crack den," he sneered derisively, the bile rising once again. "He'll be _fine_ with us." He tried to ignore the lump in his throat. He put the bag down, opened the front door, hauled the bag up again and left. Then he paused. He had one final parting shot - one last thing he _needed_ to say to Paul before he went. He put the bag down once again and stared at Paul.

"I'm glad you're not my father," he growled, his voice thick with emotion as he reached to the front door and slammed it shut behind him as loudly and angrily as he could.

Kurt carried the bag over to his car and slung it into the trunk. He climbed into the driver's seat, steeled himself for the journey home... and suddenly noticed the tears rolling down his face.

Paul was rooted in position inside the house, paralyzed by the vicious parting shot from Kurt. He heard Helen's sobs ring out afresh, and made his way over to the sofa to console her while trying to stave off his own tears. He sat down and held her tightly to himself as she sobbed, as though they could protect each other from the trauma of the evening... but there was no protection. They were both wounded.

And it suddenly occurred to Paul what the sensation felt like as his own tears finally began to flow freely. It wasn't like a bereavement.

It was more like a break-up.

* * *

><p>"Thanks for this, Kurt," sighed Dave.<p>

"No problem," shrugged Kurt. "It's the least I could do. You don't deserve this." He sat down next to Dave on the sofa and hugged him. "You'll get through this," he whispered, more to convince himself than Dave.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" murmured Dave.

"You'll have us," Kurt assured him. "We're right here for you. All of us." He pulled away from Dave and headed out to the kitchen to fetch drinks.

Then it hit him. Out of the blue, a memory flashed across his mind.

"_Burt, were you always so accepting of homosexuals? We're the same age. I remember what we used to say about the gays when we were younger."_

"_...what we used to say about the gays..."_

He looked back over his shoulder and suddenly saw what had been troubling him ever since Dave had turned up outside their home. Dave's path could so easily have been his. If his dad hadn't figured it out so early on in Kurt's life - if he'd turned out more like Dave - would he have been so understanding? So supportive?

He stumbled into the kitchen. His dad was there, also fetching himself a drink. Kurt felt unbidden tears rolling down his cheeks as the horror of the path not taken began to sink in.

"Kurt?" asked Burt, concerned for his tearful son. "Son, what's happened? Did Dave say something?"

"No, it's not that," gulped Kurt. "It's just..." He stifled a sob.

Burt made his way to Kurt and wrapped him up in a hug. "What's wrong, son?" he begged.

Kurt found the sentiment difficult to express, but battled to get the words out. "I just keep thinking, dad," he choked. "What if I hadn't been so lucky? What if you'd turned out like Paul? He said you and he weren't so different when you were young."

Burt recalled the exchange in the principal's office. He tightened his hug. "Don't think that way, Kurt," he whispered. "You're doing everything you can for that boy, and I'm right behind you. Just you focus on that." He paused to consider Dave's catastrophic situation. "Poor kid's gonna need all the help he can get over the next few weeks," he observed, his voice catching suddenly.

"Oh, dad," gasped Kurt wetly. "I can't even bear to think of what's gonna happen to him. What they could do to him. If his own parents reacted this badly..."

Burt hushed him. "All we can do is be here for him, son," he reminded him. "And we're doing that right now."

"I really hope it's enough," sighed Kurt, reining in his tears. "Nobody knows how fragile he is."

"We do, son," replied Burt. "We do."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I have no idea why I keep writing Burt being all supportive of Dave. Ehh, I guess he bridled a little at the fact that Dave bullied him while being gay himself. Maybe it's not entirely unrealistic._

_As ever, reviews = encouragement + love + guidance to make me better at this stuff._

_-Liam_


	2. Who Are You, What Are You Living For?

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters or anything. If I did, Max would take half the solos off Darren. HA!_

_I should explain just how AU this story is. It mostly adheres to canon. However, the following differences are present:  
>- No Shelby, and Quinn has worked thorugh her issues. She's been through her pink hair phase.<br>- Shane's here, Sam's gone.  
>- Blaine's at McKinley. Kurt 4 Blaine. 4 now. ;)<br>- the events of season 3 never took place: no election dramas, Mercedes is still in ND etc.  
>- Dave hasn't been shipped out to another school. RIB better have a good reason for doing this. Oh well, at least he's still around in <strong>this<strong> story. Ho hum. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Who Are You, What Are You Living For?<strong>

Dave sat in Kurt's car with Finn. As they now lived in the same house, it seemed to make little sense to take two vehicles to school when they could more easily carpool.

"I wish I could make all of this easier," sighed Kurt.

"Sucks that they did this to you, dude," mused Finn sympathetically. "You don't deserve this."

"I'm gonna get hounded out of the locker room for sure," sighed Dave miserably. "There goes the letterman."

"I hope not," sighed Kurt. "Still, if it's any consolation, you always looked better without it." Dave let out a sad guffaw.

"C'mon," urged Kurt, steeling himself. "Lets do this."

They got out of the car and made their way inside. The trio got a few odd looks, as it looked bizarre for the three of them to be in each other's company, but beyond that nobody seemed to pay them much heed.

Blaine intercepted them in the corridors. "What's going on?" he asked. "How come Karofsky's with you?"

Kurt looked at Dave as if for permission. Dave nodded, and Kurt let out a weary sigh. "He's staying with us for a while," he explained. "His parents threw him out yesterday when he got home."

Blaine's eyes widened in shock. "They what?" he gaped. "How come?"

Kurt's shoulders sagged. "Someone... someone outed him to them," he murmured miserably, being careful not to allow anyone else to hear in an effort to keep the news under wraps as long as possible. The irony of him suddenly trying against all the odds to keep Dave _in_ the closet wasn't lost on him.

Blaine was stunned. "And you didn't think to call and let me know?" he gasped.

Kurt's jaw dropped. "I was a bit busy fetching Dave's things and comforting him as his world fell to pieces," he snapped. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to gossip."

Blaine backtracked hurriedly. "That's not what I meant!" he insisted. "I just meant... god... Dave? At your place?" He looked mildly horrified at the idea.

Kurt noticed. "Yes, at our place," he confirmed. "Where else would he be? Who else was going to take him in?"

"I don't know," shrugged Blaine. "One of his jock buddies, maybe?"

"They'd have asked too many questions," replied Kurt, shaking his head. "Besides, he didn't know if they'd found out too."

Blaine looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, I guess there's that," he nodded.

"So, as of right now, we're watching out for him," asserted Kurt. "He needs us."

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Kurt, he doesn't _deserve_ us," he sneered. His antipathy was like a fresh wound to Dave. How could he be so... _mean_?

Finn was appalled. "Dude, didn't you hear?" he gasped. "He's got _nobody_."

"I'm sorry, Finn," shrugged Blaine, "but this sounds more like comeuppance than hardship to me. He's had this coming for a long while." Dave's misery was compounded by Blaine's judgment. He hadn't expected him to deliver such spite.

Kurt was equally appalled. "You're not seriously telling me you think he _deserves_ to lose his family and friends?" he snarled.

Blaine paused. He had to tackle this carefully. He decided retreat was the best option. "No, you're right, of course," he capitulated. "Nobody deserves this."

_Except Dave,_ he thought unkindly. _He's been due this for way too long._

"I'm just glad Finn's taking this so well," sighed Kurt.

"I've always kinda suspected," shrugged Finn. "Having it confirmed just fills in the blank, so it's not really some big shock or anything."

Dave was amazed. "You... you already thought I m... might be?" he stammered.

Finn shrugged. "It was just little things, really," he explained. "The relationship with Santana just appeared out of nowhere. Way too sudden. Also, you guys just... I dunno, it always seemed a little fake. And I started wondering why you picked on Kurt all the time, and then when I heard about you practically turning and running instead of dancing with him at prom... it all kinda fit. I could never really be sure, though."

Dave exhaled sharply. "Shit," he winced. "I've been way too obvious."

Finn smiled. "Nah," he assured him. "It was always kind of a guess. I doubt anyone else has figured it out."

Dave looked sad suddenly. "I guess it makes no difference now," he sighed.

* * *

><p>Dave found himself headed grim-faced to the locker rooms. He'd received a text message earlier that morning and it sounded ominous.<p>

_Emergency meeting. Locker room, after second period._

He had a pretty good idea what it was about. His heart sank when it occurred to him. They had to have heard. The journey to the locker rooms felt like the walk to the electric chair and seemed to take forever. Finally he reached the locker room, took a deep breath as though diving into deep water, yanked open the door and walked in.

Everyone turned and looked at him. The looking became staring.

Yeah. Yeah, they knew. _Fuck._

Azimio was the first to speak up. "Dude, is it true what they're sayin' 'bout you?" he challenged. There wasn't any heat in the question, but Dave suspected he heard a faint undercurrent of disappointment. Betrayal, even.

Dave sighed. "What's the point of denying it?" he grunted. "The pictures are probably gonna be all over the school by lunchtime."

The locker room was suddenly abuzz with murmurs, slowly gaining volume.

Mike spoke up quickly. "There are _pictures_?" he blurted. "I don't think I wanna see those," he added with a slight smirk, largely for humor but just slightly out of a distinct desire to not see pictures of naked guys. Or even guys all over other guys. Or even kissing other guys. He was cool with it all, but... he'd still choose not to see.

Dave's eyes rolled so fast he could have sworn he felt _torque_. "Not like _that_," he grunted. "It's just... well, mostly me leering at Hummel," he confessed. "Some fucker decided to go all PI on me and gather enough evidence to out me," he added, in an attempt to play the victim card. At this point, he'd try any trick that worked.

"Dude, that's totally fucked up," spat Strando.

Dave had a feeling he meant the admission, but took an optimistic view. Maybe they meant whoever took the photos. "You bet. That's freaky stalker shit, right there," he observed.

"No, you're fuckin' _gay_," growled Strando.

So much for sympathy. This was Strando, after all. "Wow. Thanks for takin' my side," he spat angrily.

Azimio looked just a little hurt. "Dude, since when?" he pleaded.

Dave shook his head sadly. "Fuck. Since... I dunno, couple of years," he explained. "Only admitted it to myself a few months back, so don't get all pissed about me not saying anything sooner," he continued quickly, to counter any suggestion that he'd deliberately held this back for as long as he'd known them. "I wanted to once I'd come to terms, but..."

"You thought we'd freak," interrupted Mike, completing the sentiment for Dave as a show of sympathy.

Dave felt a little of the tension dissipate. At least one person got it. "Yeah," he nodded. "Like my mom and dad did," he added, his tone becoming bitter.

Azimio was still struggling with the revelation. "Yeah, they ain't the only ones!" he blurted. "This cos you been spendin' time with Hummel? Cos don't think we ain't noticed that," he stated pointedly.

Dave facepalmed at the observation. "Jesus. You think he's been coaching me in the Art of Gay?" he challenged.

"If he has, he's not teaching you very well," noted Mike, his smirk returning.

Dave opened his mouth to retort... and found the point suddenly bewildering. _He's not teaching me well? What the...?_ "...I don't even know how to take that," he admitted finally.

Puck, too, was lost. "Me neither, what does that even mean?" he asked.

Mike explained. "He's totally straight-acting," he said, nodding toward Dave. "Hell, he fooled us for long enough."

Dave was indignant. "It's not an _act_," he growled, "it's just the way I am."

Mike made another observation. "Except when you're around Kurt," he pointed out.

Dave was floored. "...what?" he stammered in alarm.

Azimio saw what Mike was getting at. "Actually... come to think of it," he drawled steadily, mulling the point over, "dude, you got a thing for Hummel," he stated, almost daring Dave to deny it.

He did. It was practically a reflex action. "What? No! Fuck you, man, I don't," he retorted, just a little too fast and making eye contact with the floor.

"Uh... yeah, that sounds like more than a _thing_," noted Mike.

Dave was mortified. "Fuck... just... shut the fuck up, Chang," he grunted, his face burning.

The truth suddenly dawned on Finn. "Dude," he gasped. "That's why you were so close to Kurt last night?"

Azimio took Finn's question entirely the wrong way. "Oh man, we do _not_ need to hear the details of their little late-night get-togethers!" he winced.

"Oh, for god's sake, it was just a hug!" growled Dave, his indignation flaring up again. "He was trying to calm me down cos I was all over the place after getting _kicked out by my folks,_" he snarled, practically demanding _a little sympathy this way, you fuckers_.

Puck, to his credit, was struck by the revelation. "Holy shit, they kicked you out?" he gasped.

"I just said that, didn't I?" growled Dave bitterly. "So yeah, I'm _gay and homeless_. What's new with you fuckers?" he barked, his mood darkening.

"This isn't right, man," insisted Carter. "Having a gay guy on the team... fuck that shit, it feels _weird_," he dictated, a note of mild disgust in his voice.

"Hey Z," smirked Strando lewdly, raising an eyebrow, "you and Karofsky have always been joined at the freakin' hip! Somethin' you wanna tell us, dude?" he grinned.

Dave wanted to punch him. "Yeah, we wanna tell you what a _douche_ you are, but we can't really put it into words," he retaliated furiously, and decided to force a little education on the jocks. "You can't fuckin' _catch_ gay by hangin' round with 'em. Hell, if that was true, half the fuckin' world would be gay by now. And you guys for sure," he pointed out. "All that time spent with me in here, or out on the field, or partyin' at Z's place? And you're all straight," he observed scornfully.

Rashad jumped in to support Dave with a retort of his own. "Yeah, unless there's somethin' you wanna tell _us_, Strando," he grinned.

Strando wasn't taking that for a moment. "Fuck you, man, I'm not the fag here," he snarled in disgust.

"Dude, not cool!" scowled Finn.

"I call 'em like I see 'em, Finnderella," sneered an unrepentant Strando.

"Really?" challenged Puck. "You didn't _see 'em_ all this time Karofsky's been in the closet."

Shane decided to chip in. "So dude, you been gay this whole time?" he asked Dave.

Dave let out a world-weary sigh. "Well, yeah, that's pretty much my point," he replied.

Shane grinned. "And they say gay dudes ain't no good at sports," he chuckled. The point wasn't lost on Dave. _Huh... nicely put, dude. Good to see at least one of you are on my side._

Carter reiterated the point with a somewhat more bigoted flavor. "No, they just say sports ain't no place for a gay guy," he rebuked. "They're right, this feels creepy."

Dave was wounded by Carter's implication that Dave was somehow some kind of sexual predator. "What d'you mean, it feels creepy?" he retorted.

Carter stuck to his guns. "Going out on to the field for practice and having a fag jumpin' on top of me?" he clarified. "No. No, I'm not down with that."

"Yeah, me neither. Fuck that shit," spat Strando.

Azimio's eyes had widened during the exchange, and his jaw had dropped a little. "...Man, when you put it _that_ way..." he drawled eventually, as though he hadn't considered the ramifications before.

Dave was crestfallen. "You're fucking kidding me," he croaked bitterly.

Azimio, to his credit, was ashamed of his own squeamishness. "I'm sorry, man, that shit kinda spooks me," he pleaded. "I just... I can't, man, I'm sorry." He genuinely was; he felt as though he was letting his friend down, and knew full well he could lose Dave's friendship over it, but he needed time to get used to the situation.

Dave couldn't see any of that, however: all he could see was that his friend had betrayed him. "This is fucking _epic_ bullshit," he growled angrily.

Puck, too, found himself unsettled by the idea of being manhandled by a gay guy. "Shit, I hadn't thought of it like that," he muttered. "I'm sorry, man, I... no. Just... no way," he retreated apologetically.

Dave looked at him like he was dirt. He'd never really thought much of Puck, but this...

The worst was yet to come, however. "Dude, I... shit, I..." Finn was battling desperately to overcome the very same psychological trip hazard that had tripped up Azimio and Puck. He wasn't doing particularly well - although, just like Azimio, he felt disgraced at his own inability to _just freakin' deal with it_.

Dave was cut particularly deeply by the revelation that even _Finn_ couldn't handle it. "Fuck. Just don't," he choked angrily. "Jesus. Of all the people here, Finn, I thought _you'd_ be cool with it. You live with Kurt, for Christ's sake!" he barked.

Finn desperately tried to justify his point of view. "Yeah, but he's, like, my _brother_ or something," he explained. "You're... well..."

"The big scary gay rapist?" snarled Dave bitterly. "Go on, what am I?" he challenged.

Shane saw no reason to turn on Dave the way they had all seemed to. Even though he was one of the newer members of the team, he'd always considered Dave a decent guy, and an amazing asset to the team. "I'm with Dave on this. You're all a bunch of pussies," he proclaimed in disgust. "He's already been jumpin' all over you for, what, months? And you know what that was? It was _football,_" he pointed out, as if they were all too stupid to even see it.

Then again, from their reactions, perhaps they were.

Not so Mike - he, too, jumped to Dave's defense. "I think you're all idiots," he sighed, shaking his head in dismay. "He's one of our strongest players! You'd rather lose?"

Dave glowered at everyone but Mike and Shane. "No, I think they'd just rather _be losers_," he concluded, resigned to his fate. "Fuck you all. _I'll_ go tell Beiste you drummed me off the team." He pulled off his Letterman jacket. "I hope she puts you fuckers through _hell_," he growled savagely as he flung the jacket squarely at Strando's face, which was _still_ frozen into a sneer, and stormed out.

Azimio couldn't help but notice Strando's reaction as the jacket hit him: he looked grossed out, as though struck by a soiled rag.

_Can't really put it into words,_ pondered Azimio, echoing Dave's earlier sentiment.

* * *

><p>Dave had no idea how to act now that his secret was slowly but surely spilling out across the school. Should he deny it? No, that would have made him look stupid when everyone <em>did<em> find out. Ignore it, then? Risky. People would assume it was true. But was it risky, really? They'd already know anyway, so why rise to the bait? Alternatively, he could confront it head-on and declare it. Maybe go even further than that. An announcement?

Just the idea froze his blood. He... he just _couldn't_ say it in front of everyone. He still couldn't. It was way too big.

Mind you, he told everyone in the locker room. Maybe he could tell another group of people. But... who? What other group of people was there at-

A cold wet slap dropped him out of his musings and stopped him dead in his tracks. It was raspberry flavored.

"Welcome to the scrap heap, _fag_!" hooted Cooper and one of his puckhead compatriots.

_Oh, great. The puckheads know. That's gonna be fun._ His mood soured, and he stormed off to the bathrooms to clear himself up. His eyes stung like crazy. He forgot how much it sucked to be slushied.

Couldn't it at least have been cherry? He _liked_ cherry.

The cold and stickiness struck him like a second wave. Ugh. He used to do this to people? To Glee club? To... wait, had he done this to Kurt? He put the notion out of his mind and barged into the bathrooms.

"Hey! Watch it, fag!" barked some junior student, clearly on some kind of high on hearing the news that a big tough senior had just been outed and keen to get a piece of the name-calling action. He got it.

All the way out into the corridor as Dave grabbed him by the arm and flung him through the air, out of the door to the bathrooms. He missed Kurt by a few feet as he flew past, yelping in terror before he hit the floor.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, he might be a _fag_," he noted sardonically to the sprawling junior, face down by the lockers, "but he's still stronger and meaner than you, so you might wanna think before calling him names."

Dave heard the unmistakable sneer that could only ever be Kurt. He'd often found himself thankful lately that he was no longer the target of his witheringly condescending tone. The little brat outside just got a double whammy - tossed about like a rag doll by the school's newest gay, and then put right back in his box by the school's most _well-known_ gay.

_Chalk up one to Team Rainbow,_ thought Dave with a guffaw as he washed the remains of the slushies out of his eyes and hair.

Kurt followed Dave into the bathrooms. "Nice throw," he observed mirthfully.

"Nice putdown," replied Dave. "Super gay twin powers, _activate!_" he quipped, holding out a fist.

Kurt bumped it. "Form of something utterly _fabulous_," he completed, with a smirk. Dave couldn't help but chuckle.

"So who did this to you?" asked Kurt.

Dave sighed, his grin dissipating. "Cooper and one of the other puckhead pricks," he grunted as he surveyed his slushie-soaked t-shirt.

"Ah yes," nodded Kurt in recognition. "Count Douche of Puckburgh and his witless minions."

Dave's smirk returned. "I'll have to remember that one," he smiled, retrieving a fresh t-shirt from his bag.

"Oh, I'm sure you will," nodded Kurt. "You always had a gift for the barbs."

Dave turned to look at Kurt. "Really?" he asked.

Kurt nodded. "Oh yeah," he replied. "I still remember that time you batted down my snipe about 'your appointment at Supercuts'. 'They _loooove_ walkins'," he affected in a halfway-decent caricature of Dave. "Shot me down cold. Brilliance."

Dave had to smile. "I can put on the sass now and then," he agreed, disappearing into a cubicle to change tops.

A thought occurred to Kurt. "Actually, thinking about that," he mused, "you talked smack with me about your hair care regimen. How the hell did I not get from _that_ that you were gay?" he giggled.

Dave grinned as he pulled off his stained t-shirt out of view of Kurt. "Too busy trying to ignore the outfit, I guess," he suggested. "Shapeless matched tastefully with formless, and accessorized with aimless."

Kurt shook his head in equal amazement and amusement. "Good _god_, you can even sass _yourself_," he chuckled. "You have a gift, right there."

Dave shrugged as he emerged wearing his replacement top. "I doubt that's gonna get me back on the team," he sighed. "Look, folks, no Letterman," he declared, arms open wide in demonstration of his not-there-anymore status symbol.

Kurt could have kicked himself for not noticing immediately. "...they didn't?" he gasped in dismay.

Dave shook his head. "If I hadn't quit, they'd have had me ditched," he figured. "Beiste's gonna be furious at them. I bet she makes their lives a freakin' misery." He paused, his bitterness at the outcome resurfacing. "I _hope_ she does," he grunted.

"You haven't told her yet?" asked Kurt.

"Nah, not yet," replied Dave.

Kurt's resolve stiffened once more. "In that case, _we're_ telling her," he declared. "Lets go see her before lunch."

Dave was struck by Kurt's support. "You don't have to do this," he insisted gently.

Kurt smiled at Dave. "And you don't have to ask," he explained.

Dave found his throat constricting and, unable to get even a thank-you out, threw his arms around Kurt. Kurt appreciated the gesture, and returned the hug.

It was the best Dave had felt in the past 24 hours.

* * *

><p>"So you're quitting? You're seriously just gonna give up?"<p>

Coach Beiste was pissed. Dave was one of the star players - as one of the guards, he was unmatched, and often key to her strategies. He was tough, he could move pretty fast and had impressive stamina. Sadly, not one of them would help him through this situation.

"If I don't, you end up losing half the team, Coach," he countered. "I'm not gonna destroy the Titans for the sake of equal rights or some such bullshit."

"This ain't about equal friggin' rights, and you know it!" barked Beiste. "This is about winning the game!"

"And for that, you need a team that can play together!" rebuked Dave. "And they're not gonna play alongside me. Face it, Coach - with me, you have no team!"

"Without you, I have no team!" hollered Beiste. The familiarity of the exchange wasn't lost on Dave: it was he himself who called Beiste's bluff with a similar comment, and her reply had been an exact negation of it. So it was here - Dave insisting one thing and Beiste retaliating with a polar opposite point of view.

He couldn't help but admit she had a point, though. If they allowed their own _personal_ prejudices and squeamishness to stand above their team spirit... they really weren't much of a team.

"At least you've still got... well, _something_," shrugged Dave. "You're only one player down this way. I can be replaced for a while, at least. Maybe they'll come around eventually," he suggested, trying more to convince himself than Beiste.

"They shouldn't even have to," snarled Kurt, indignant at their blatant... _jockishness_. "Those boys need an education. Any chance you can press-gang them into PFFLAG attendance? I'm happy to have them along," he added keenly. Any chance to teach those neanderthals that being gay is not just _okay_ but pretty much _irrelevant_ was fine by him.

Beiste sighed. _Oh, if only it were that easy, Kurt._ "I can't see that flyin', kid, I'm sorry," she admitted sadly.

"You know I'm right, deep down, don't you?" pressed Dave.

Beiste was livid at the loss of one of her key strategy pieces. "I'm gonna give those bastards hell for this," she growled.

"Any chance you can make that a double hell, on our behalf?" chimed Kurt?

"Maybe make them train in Cheerio outfits as punishment?" guffawed Dave humorlessly.

Beiste raised an eyebrow. _You two are giving me bad ideas. I think I like them._ "I'll see what I can do," she nodded. "I want you back on the team sooner rather than later, and if it means forcing the rest of the team to suck it up and deal with it, so be it."

"Good luck, Coach," smiled Dave. "I wanna be back on the team the moment they'll have me."

"Where's your letterman, by the way?" asked Beiste. "You can still keep it, even if you won't be able to wear it around school."

Dave blinked. "Oh," he uttered. He hadn't known that. "I, uh, might have thrown it at Strando." He noticed Kurt facepalming out of the corner of his eye.

"Wow," gasped Beiste. "You really _are_ as pissed about this as me."

"You have no idea, Coach," sighed Dave. "I thought Azimio would be cool with this at least. He's as spooked about being jumped on by me as most of the others."

"Want me to push him particularly hard?" offered Beiste.

Dave paused. "No," he decided. "He did look kinda miserable about it, so maybe he'll come around on his own. He sorta looked like he thought he was letting me down or something."

"He was," countered Beiste and Kurt in unison.

Dave looked at them both. "Yeah, but I could see how bad he felt about it. He might still get used to the idea. Not like Strando and Carter," he recalled. "Those two douchebags went for the fuckin' jugular."

"Sounds like they could do with a bit of extra tough training," noted Beiste with a glint in her eye. "Maybe something a little inventive."

"I doubt they have Cheerio outfits in Strando's size," smirked Kurt.

"Don't you boys worry," smiled Beiste. "I'll come up with something."

Dave knew Beiste. Whatever they came up with, it was sure to be something severe.

Dave liked that thought.

* * *

><p><em>AN: weird how I made Strando **gay** in one story and turned him into a total douche here. Oh well._

_This chapter was only ever meant to be about how people reacted to the news. I think I've done okay with Beiste's characterization as she'd be reluctant to lose one of her key team members. Whether or not he is in canon is immaterial. I write the story, so I say he is. :o)_

_As ever, reviews and moar halps always appreciated. =)_

_-Liam_


	3. Everything Is Better When You Hear

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters or anything. If I did, Max would have sung at least once by now. *sigh*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Everything Is Better When You Hear That Sound<strong>

Dave had found himself once again pondering how to tackle the spread of gossip, and how best to stay one step ahead. He discussed it with Kurt as they sat in the library during a study period.

"I've already discounted making a public statement," stated Dave. "That's... it's still too scary."

"In fairness, I have to admit, I'd never have been able to do that myself," shrugged Kurt. "Even though I was pretty obvious in retrospect," he smiled weakly.

"You're way too fabulous to conceal it," smiled Dave kindly. "The world would be a dimmer place without your style and color and overall splendor."

Kurt laughed. "Oh, stop!" he giggled. "The point stands, though - I'm not going to talk you into coming out to everyone at once. Let the rumor spread on its own, just don't deny it when challenged about it."

"I could really do with some allies," sighed Dave. "I clearly can't count on friends and family."

"I... uh, I have a suggestion," offered Kurt haltingly. "But you might kinda hate it."

Dave was already one step ahead. "Go on," he sighed, rolling his eyes, a faint smile on his face. "Issue the invitation."

Kurt relaxed, seeing that Dave was expecting him to say it anyway, and decided to go for the excited puppy-dog angle. "Join us in Glee club!" he exclaimed with a grin, his eyes twinkling.

Dave rolled his eyes _again_, possibly for luck. He couldn't help but smirk at Kurt's enthusiasm, however. He found himself chuckling under his breath. "Think they'll accept me?" he asked cautiously.

"Is that a _yes?_" gasped Kurt in amazement.

"No, it's a _wait, lets make sure they're not just gonna scream at me_," rebuked Dave impishly.

Kurt giggled. "I'll stand by you," he assured Dave. "So will Finn and Blaine."

"Blaine?" queried Dave. "You mean _Kurt-he-doesn't-deserve-us_ Blaine?"

Kurt balked at the memory of Blaine's shameful declaration. "Well," he admitted. "If you're not _really good_ he might have pause, but I have faith in you."

Dave's stomach jolted at the proposition of support from Kurt. _I have faith in you._ Screw the Glee club, that was music right there. "That's all I need to know," he beamed.

Kurt didn't even stop to consider Dave's abrupt change of mood. As long as Dave was happy, he was satisfied he'd done his job well.

* * *

><p>Kurt intercepted a few key members of the glee club ahead of Dave's request to join. "I know what you're going to say - <em>I'm not working with a homophobe<em>, blah blah blah," mocked Kurt, knowing exactly the stance Rachel would adopt, "but you need to know - the rumor is _true._ He's been in the closet all this time, and it's been killing him."

The news stopped Rachel dead in her tracks. "He's... he's _actually gay_?" she gasped, recoiling in horror.

"Oh, get _over_ yourself!" hissed Kurt. "So are your dads! How can this even be a problem for you?"

Rachel urgently clarified her issues. "It's not that, it's..." she spluttered. "Oh god, I have _no_ gaydar to speak of. Two gay dads, a shocking Streisand habit and _absolutely no gaydar._ What the hell _am_ I?"

"Ooh. You made this whole thing about you in less than 30 seconds," drawled Kurt witheringly. "That's got to be a record."

Rachel winced at her insular attitude and tried to refocus on now-actually-gay Karof... uh, Dave? Was he Dave now? "What do we call him?" she asked suddenly. "He's always been Karofsky to us, but... that feels a little weird now."

"So it should," nodded Kurt. "For me, Karofsky was the bully. When he stopped bullying, I considered it the retirement of Karofsky and the introduction of Dave. He's been Dave to me for months now."

Rachel nodded in agreement. "Dave it is, then," she stated. "He'd better be good, Kurt," she smirked.

"He might surprise you," he grinned back.

* * *

><p>"Wait. Karofsky? In Glee?"<p>

"No," bristled Kurt. "_Dave_ in Glee."

Mercedes was proving to be a harder nut to crack. "Kurt, the guy picked on pretty much all of us," she complained.

"And saw the error of his ways and started to straighten up and fly right," insisted Kurt supportively. "Until... well, you've probably heard the rumor, haven't you?"

"About him being gay?" guffawed Mercedes. "That's just ridiculous! Who's his boyfriend? Azimio?"

"No, he hasn't got a boyfriend yet," responded Kurt as thought the point was moot. "Although, according to the photos that _some asshole_ sent to his parents, he's been paying quite a lot of attention to me," he pointed out, with just a touch of smugness at the idea that he was sexy enough to check out.

Mercedes went to rebuke the point... and stopped. _Photos? Some asshole? His parents? He's been paying atten... wait, __**what?**_

Kurt looked her in the eye. "It just sunk in, didn't it?" he nodded, his smugness redoubling.

Mercedes was dumbstruck. "He's... really?" she ventured uncertainly. "_Really?_" The fact was sinking in slowly, and her mind was doing its level best to push it right back out again.

"Trust me, I have undeniable proof," assured Kurt. "Have done since like, oh, nearly a year ago when he freakin' _kissed_ me in the locker room."

"When he _what!_" screeched Mercedes. This was certainly new and unusual. And _horrible_.

"_Relax_, 'Cedes!" shushed Kurt. "He already apologized for it, we're both way past it, it's cool."

"Oh my _god_, Kurt," blurted Mercedes, still utterly shocked by the revelation. "Wait, how come you didn't tell me about this at the time?" she challenged.

"That would have meant outing him," explained Kurt. "And you know how I feel about outing people."

Mercedes nodded. It was like one of his golden rules or something. Like some kind of unwritten gay code of conduct. "Yeah, I guess that's only fair," she conceded.

"So," pushed Kurt. "If he auditions for Glee Club, you'll at least hear him out? And maybe stand up for him?"

"I dunno, hon," cautioned Mercedes. "What if he... well... what if he sucks?"

"We all know he can dance from his performance in that half-time Thriller thing," recalled Kurt. "And I'm sure I heard him singing something along with the radio this morning in the shower. He sounded pretty good."

Mercedes was taken aback by this new revelation. "Wait, this morning? You heard him in the _shower_, this morning?" she blurted, agape.

"We've taken him in for a while," explained Kurt. "He has nowhere to go - his folks kicked him out."

Mercedes' attitude toward Karofsky sunk without trace as a new perspective took hold. She felt sympathetic toward _Dave_, the outed guy who'd been kicked out by his parents. Karofsky suddenly seemed little more than a memory. "How do you even have the room?" she asked.

"We don't really," shrugged Kurt sadly, "but he insists the sofa's enough for him."

"He's a big guy," protested Mercedes. "He can't sleep right on a sofa."

"Maybe he'll get lucky and someone in Glee Club will offer him a place?" suggested Kurt. It felt like a wish. He even caught himself willing it to be so.

Mercedes nodded. "It's the least we can do," she agreed. "Lets hope his performance measures up - sounds like he could do with the friends about now," she observed.

_Too bad he can't count on family too,_ thought Kurt. _He needs those just as much._

* * *

><p>"Okay, guys," announced Will. "I know it's a little unusual to bring new people into the club this late, but I've been petitioned by Kurt, Finn, Rachel and Mercedes to hear an audition by a member of the football team, and I personally happen to think he's especially tal..."<p>

"Mr Schue," interrupted Finn. "He's, uh... he's not on the team any more. He kinda quit after... well... it's kinda personal. We heard something about him and kinda overreacted a little."

Will paused, and looked Finn in the eye. "I take it this is about the rumor that's been circulating around the school?" he challenged, suddenly stony-faced.

Finn, to his credit, looked deeply ashamed about the way he'd reacted to the idea of being grappled by Dave in practice, but still needed time to get over his issues. "I'm afraid so, Mr Schue," he admitted shamefacedly. "I know we treated him bad, but personally speaking, it's my issue to get over, and I'll do the best I can to get over it quickly."

Puck spoke up, too. "I'm with Finn, Mr Schue," he confessed. "Dave isn't the problem. We are." The mention of Dave's name triggered a burst of gossip.

"Wait," demanded Quinn. "Dave? As in _Karofsky?_"

Blaine was appalled at the idea of Dave in Glee. "Whoa, hold on!" he cried. "We're not just gonna let him in because he's _gay_ now, surely?"

The gossiping fell silent. And then flared up anew.

"Isn't Dave too big to be a unicorn?" asked Brittany.

"Oh my god, he's _gay_?" spluttered Santana, slightly overdoing the shock. Kurt was on to her right away.

"Oh, _please_," he growled. "You knew he was when you blackmailed him into dating you before prom!"

The gossiping gained volume, and burst into squabbling as they realized Santana had hoodwinked them all, until Will intervened. "HEY!" he hollered. The chattering and arguing stopped abruptly.

"Guys, as shocking as this may all be, you're not being very supportive," he reprimanded the group, sternly.

"That's okay, Mr Schue," sighed Dave, strolling in. "Word was sure to get around anyway. I did want to address the rumors personally, but..." He let out a sigh and shrugged.

"Anything you'd like to clear up, at least, Dave?" offered Will.

"Actually, yes," declared Dave. "I'd like to state, for the record, that the rumors are _false_."

Kurt's jaw dropped. _You're saying __**what**__ now?_

"I am, in fact, _not_ the reincarnation of Liberace," he smirked. "With a figure like this, I could _never_ get away with those outfits, and sequins _so_ aren't me."

The penny dropped, and the auditorium rippled with laughter.

"But yeah, I'm totally gay," he shrugged, like he was telling them what he'd had for lunch.

Kurt smiled. He really _had_ come to terms with it.

"And he's staying at Kurt's place," added Mercedes. "On the _sofa_." More murmurs filled the room. This _was_ news. His parents had kicked him out?

Rachel jumped in with an immediate offer of support. "You can stay with me and my dads if you'd prefer," she volunteered. "At least you'd actually have a bed. If... if you want to, I mean," she retreated.

Dave smiled. "That'd be great, thanks!" he assured her, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his throat and hold back the tears he felt burning his eyes.

Mercedes chimed in with an alternate offer. "Actually, Davey," she invited warmly, "I'll speak to my folks and see if they can take you in, just in case it turns out Rachel's dads ain't able to." Dave found himself battling to keep control of his emotions in the face of this unexpected offer of aid. He nodded and smiled gratefully to Mercedes, willing himself not to burst into tears.

"Dave, if you don't mind us asking," ventured Santana, "who outed you?"

Dave shrugged sadly. "I don't know," he gulped. "Whoever it was wanted to hurt me, I know that much. Sent pictures to my folks and everything. Got me kicked out of my home. If it wasn't for the Hummels..." He struggled to go on, and a few tears escaped despite his determination not to fall apart. The memory of his eviction was still too raw, and the gratitude he felt toward Kurt and his family still overwhelmed him every time.

Rachel's eyes were already filling. "If I ever find out who did this to you," she snarled, "I will _personally_ give them all kinds of hell."

Dave nodded, relishing the support. "Lemme know who if you ever find out, okay?" he gulped, trying to rein in his emotions. He still had an audition to get through.

"Do you have a song ready, Dave?" asked Will.

Dave nodded. "Yeah, I've got one that kinda means something to me right now," he replied, handing Brad the sheet music and willing his emotions to stabilize. They started to settle as his performance loomed.

"Okay, Dave," assured Will. "Whenever you're ready."

Dave nodded to Brad, and the melody began. Kurt crossed his fingers tightly, barely daring to hope.

**Smile though your heart is aching  
><strong>**Smile even though it's breaking  
><strong>**When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by  
><strong>**If you smile through your fear and sorrow  
><strong>**Smile and maybe tomorrow  
><strong>**You'll see the sun come shining through for you**

**Light up your face with gladness  
><strong>**Hide every trace of sadness  
><strong>**Although a tear may be ever so near  
><strong>**That's the time you must keep on trying  
><strong>**Smile, what's the use of crying?  
><strong>**You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
><strong>**If you just smile.**

Kurt found himself enraptured by the rich baritone. The rest of the club hadn't known what to expect, and had visibly relaxed when they realized that Dave was actually an accomplished vocalist and would make a worthy addition to their ranks.

Blaine was listening out for the slightest imperfection. He was struggling to find any. It bothered him.

**That's the time you must keep on trying  
><strong>**Smile, what's the use of crying?  
><strong>**You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
><strong>**If you just smile.**

Dave's voice cracked slightly on the last note, and a tear managed to escape and roll down his cheek. Rachel had struggled to hold her own tears at bay throughout the performance to no avail, and she gazed at Dave through her tears with a new admiration and respect.

She wasn't alone: each member of the club was awestruck by the smoothness of the vocal and the feeling in his performance. They all applauded, except for Blaine, who was still trying to come up with a counter argument to Dave's inclusion, and Rachel, who was determined he would join. She suddenly ran over to Dave and threw her arms around him tearfully.

"He is _joining glee club_," she insisted vehemently, "and anyone who has a problem with that has to go through _me_." Santana couldn't help but scoff at the threat, but appreciated the sentiment. Dave was... he was _good_.

Kurt jumped to his feet. "And me," he added, walking over. "It's not just that he needs this - he is _really_ good. That was a _gorgeous_ baritone, and we could really do with one." He beckoned to his boyfriend. "Blaine?" he enticed, summoning Blaine to join him.

He didn't. "No!" he exclaimed. "Absolutely not. Bringing Karofsky in among us would be a total violation," he insisted. "He's picked on all of us - his presence would only serve to create division and conflict. Look, it's already happening - Rachel and Kurt against the rest of us. It'd be a disaster!"

Finn stood up and walked over. "Rachel, Kurt and _me_," he announced determinedly. "I asked Mr Schue to hear him out too, remember."

Santana stood up, too, and made her way over. "I'm with Dave too," she affirmed. "Our Davey gots him some bitchin' pipes." Dave hadn't expected _any_ support, so even one more person felt like a triumph. A grin of sheer delight appeared on his face.

Mercedes was next. "Hell yeah," she agreed. "The boy's got soul. And he and Kurt are cool with each other now, so I'm down with that." She joined Kurt, Rachel, Finn, Santana and Dave at the front. Dave's grin broadened. He'd heard from Kurt that she had concerns about his singing, but this was an endorsement so ringing it almost sounded like music itself.

Blaine was insistent. "Are you out of your minds?" he spluttered. "He bullied each and every one of you! We can't have that kind of negative influence here, it's supposed to be a haven from all that stuff!" Dave's face fell at this. Of all the people to oppose him, did it really have to be the _other_ other gay student?

Kurt bristled. "What? Are you blind?" he barked. "He's the one being picked on lately! He needs this at least as much as any one of us." Dave felt uncomfortable suddenly. He was torn between secretly being pleased at the conflict between Kurt and Blaine, and being upset that Kurt was unhappy about... well, _anything_, really.

Blaine refused to back down. "I'm telling you, this is a mistake!" he snapped. His insistence was making a considerable impact on Dave's conscience, and Dave found himself considering withdrawing his request to join.

Brittany joined them. "If Santana's cool with it, so am I," she stated flatly. "And his singing _is_ really nice, too."

Quinn saw which way the wind was blowing, and admitted to herself that Dave's voice really _was_ good. "That makes it six," she observed. She got up and made her way over. "I'm making it seven."

Blaine shook his head in dismay, and Dave's feelings of immense awkwardness over the disagreement only grew.

Puck raised an eyebrow. "Hey, anything that pisses off the noob," he shrugged with a smirk, and joined the growing huddle.

Blaine glared at him. "Loving your reasoning," he spat acidly. "_Really_ mature. That'll help us get to Nationals."

Ironically, this point swayed Tina. "Actually, he could," she noted. "We could do a lot with a voice like his." She joined the rest of them, as did Mike.

Artie followed them. "Can't stop the tide from comin' in, Blaine," he observed. "And you gotta admit, his voice is smooth." Dave's spirits lifted once again; only Blaine had refused to support his inclusion. The rest of them had, as Kurt predicted, taken him in as a friend in need and an indubitably talented performer.

Will smiled. "I'm really proud of you guys," he enthused warmly. "Dave," he addressed cheerfully, "welcome to glee club!"

Dave smiled, albeit a little embarrassed at the fuss that had been created. At least he had friends _somewhere_.

Blaine mirrored Dave's grin with a face like thunder. This was a horrible turn of events. How _dare_ he barge in and ruin things?

* * *

><p>"They totally took me in. They actually went for it!" gushed Dave excitedly as everyone sat at the table together for dinner.<p>

"They recognize talent when they hear it, Dave," smiled Kurt supportively. "I wasn't kidding - you're _really_ good."

Dave beamed at Kurt. He could have listened to Kurt's praise forever.

"I'm glad you've got someone at school you can count on, David," smiled Carole. "Finn told us about the situation with the team. I really hope they get over it quickly."

Finn lowered his eyes to the plate in front of him. The reaction wasn't lost on Dave. "Dude, it's okay," he sighed. "I'm sure your mom doesn't _just_ mean you, and I know you feel kinda rotten about it all," he assured Finn. "You'll need time, I get that. At least you're not being a dou... uh, at least you're not being stupid about it," he noted, being just careful enough not to curse at another family's dinner table.

Kurt smiled at Dave's sudden jolt of politeness. It was... cute.

"Thanks, Dave," smiled Finn weakly. "I'm really sorry things went down the way they did."

"Get ready to be even sorrier when you start losing games," smirked Kurt.

Finn groaned. "God, don't even remind me," he sighed. "This season's gonna suck without Dave on the team."

"They'd better get their act together soon, then," asserted Kurt, "or they're screwed."

"To be honest," sighed Finn, "after the way we treated Dave, we probably don't deserve any more than that."

Dave shrugged. "Hey, it took me like a year to get used to being gay, and I have to _live_ with it," he noted. "You just have to get used to having a gay friend - and look, I haven't even groped you once!" he smirked mischievously.

Finn's eyes briefly popped wide open until he realized Dave was just teasing. He shook his head with a chuckle. It was a fair point, though - Dave was just being... well, _Dave_. He'd always been gay, so he...

"_Dude, you got a thing for Hummel."_

"_Uh... yeah, that sounds like more than a __**thing**__."_

Kurt. Dave. _Wait. That's. That's just. They. What?_ "Dave?" asked Finn. "Uh, were we right about what you felt for... _someone_, in the locker room earlier?"

Dave blushed. "No!" he started. "No, I... I don't even... dude, just... shut up, Finn," he hissed, his voice steadily lowering throughout the exchange. Carole's eyebrows made ready to break for orbit. She leaned over to Burt.

"I think they mean Kurt," she whispered to him. "I wouldn't go crazy if I were you, it looks like Dave's got no plans on making a move so stay calm."

Burt's mouth fell open slightly. He looked at Kurt. He turned to look at Dave. He looked back at Kurt. Carole hissed a warning to him and bumped his arm. And then Kurt guessed.

Dave was crestfallen. Suddenly, his _other_ secret had slipped out. He could tell from Burt, Carole and Kurt's reactions that they'd all figured out that Dave had a huge man-sized crush on Kurt. They weren't exactly correct, though.

It was more like a _deep and abiding love_ for him.

Kurt looked stunned. How had he not noticed? How could he have spent so much time around Dave and not realized how he felt? How could Dave feel this way about him without either he or Blaine picking up on... oh.

Yes. Of course. Blaine. Why _would_ he notice how another guy felt? He and Blaine had been so wrapped up in each other it was probably way off their radar. Well. That's okay, then.

An awkward silence had fallen over the table. Finn launched into the first topic of conversation he could think of - Rachel's offer, and what led to it. "Uh, so yeah, Dave's in Glee Club now," he restated. It was a weak save, but he hoped it'd do.

Kurt pounced on this. Anything to avoid thinking of _Dave's got a crush on me. He's got a freakin' crush on... oh Gaga, I had my hands on his underwear last night. Focus on Glee Club. Focus on his singing._ "He was amazing," enthused Kurt. "It was like Nat King Cole was right there in the auditorium."

Finn continued. "He's totally got their support," he added. "Rachel refused to let him slip through her fingers! He's never gonna make it out of Glee Club now," he teased with a grin.

Dave chuckled. "There are worse places to be in," he shrugged.

Kurt chipped in again excitedly. "And Rachel and Mercedes _both_ said they'd speak to their folks and see if he could..." _Oh crap. Way to break it to them, dumbass._ Kurt paused, uncertain how to explain that Dave could potentially have two new sources of sanctuary.

Burt had already figured it out. "Move in with 'em?" he suggested. "That's actually not a bad idea. Not that we want rid of you, Dave," he assured the nervous jock, "but a sofa's hardly a substitute for a proper bed for someone of your build."

Dave nodded, a little self-conscious of his shape. That was about to change. "Thanks dad," smiled Kurt, and turned to Dave. "He's right. You're all tall and musclebound. That sofa's no long term solution for you," he agreed.

Dave was struggling to take in everything beyond Kurt calling him tall and musclebound. Once again, he found himself grinning like an idiot.

Carole gave Burt a knowing look. Burt nodded and smirked at Dave's blatant signals. Kurt saw their expressions and blushed: he may as well have called Dave a tall dark handsome stranger. He didn't want to lead Dave on.

"Lets hope one of 'em comes back with good news, huh?" ventured Kurt hopefully, eyebrows aloft.

The reality of having to leave dawned on Dave. He'd see less of Kurt. His face fell a little, but he tried to stay upbeat, not least out of a desire not to seem ungrateful. "Yeah, lets hope," he nodded. "I could do with a proper bed."

Finn's phone suddenly rang out a message alert. It was Azimio.

**words spreading cross town about dk. heard ppl gossiping. might b worse at school 2moro. warn him 4 me. he wont wanna hear it from me.**

Dave saw Finn's expression. "Bad news, dude?" he asked.

Finn nodded sadly, and handed the phone to Dave. "Don't be mad at him," he pleaded. "He's just the messenger here."

Dave read the message and frowned. Z could have told him straight. Why was he keeping this distance? He appreciated the heads-up, all the same. All he'd suffered today was being dropped from the team, which could only happen once, a slushieing from the puckheads which he'd probably have to get used to, and one random instance of name-calling.

Now word was really starting to spread, it'd probably get worse. And not just in school, if what Z said was accurate.

Tomorrow was really gonna suck.

* * *

><p><em>AN: From what I hear of episode 3x05 of Glee, the real Dave's having an easier time of it than I've given him here. I'd better get the next few chapters finished... even though they make things even worse for poor Dave. :(  
>-Lemm<em>


	4. I Wish I Could Make Sense Of What We Do

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters or anything. If I did, Max and Chris would have way more scenes together because their chemistry together is **sublime**._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: I Wish I Could Make Sense Of What We Do<strong>

Dave's heart sank. He and Kurt found themselves staring at his locker, now decked out with the word "FAG" in an angry red scrawl. Did it really have to start this early?

Kurt immediately went on the attack. Or, more accurately, the withering criticism. "Wow, that's imaginative," he drawled sardonically. "I'm amazed they didn't write 'This is a locker' underneath, in keeping with their theme of stating the _totally_ obvious."

Dave barely chuckled at Kurt's sahara-dry wit, but a slight chuckle was still a chuckle. Kurt smiled a little at his success at turning Dave's mouth up at the corners at all, even if it was only a little, however briefly.

"Think it'll be booby trapped?" pondered Dave aloud.

"It's a possibility," admitted Kurt. "Not a major one, though. I doubt they'd put that much effort in. Not this early."

Dave gingerly entered the combination into his locker, then opened it from the side. Nothing happened.

"Wow," he observed after a moment's consideration. "I don't know whether to feel relieved, or kinda snubbed."

"I vote 'relieved'," noted Kurt. "Take your victories where you can, I say." The suggestion brought a sudden heaviness upon Dave. He imagined the rest of his life - or, at least, the rest of his schooldays - consisting of an ongoing sequence of seemingly endless battles.

As if to punctuate the thought, he was suddenly shoulder-barged into the lockers by a passing puckhead.

He had become the helpless gay kid he'd picked on the year before. As ironies go, they didn't come much more emphatic than that.

Kurt felt awful for his friend. "Don't let them get to you," he urged Dave. "They want to see weakness. Don't give it to them."

"How can I not?" uttered Dave miserably. "I did this to you so many times last year."

Kurt saw exactly where his mind was going with this. "You apologized," he affirmed determinedly. "I forgave you. It's history. You don't _deserve_ to be punished like this. Don't think like that, Dave - not even for a moment."

"Hard not to," sighed Dave sadly. "Every time it happens to me, it'll just remind me of all the times I did it to you. I hate myself for that."

Kurt looked at Dave and, as usual, saw how miserable he was. Only now it was unmistakable: his misery seemed to be draped over him like a shroud. It reminded him of the days leading up to prom... which only served as a painful reminder of the fateful night itself, and his stupid idea about coming out. No wonder Dave had run off.

If he hadn't crossed paths with him by pure chance over the course of the summer, they probably would have remained... hell, what _had_ they become after prom night? Still, that chance meeting had started everything.

"_I... Dave, I was an idiot. I'm... I'm..."_

"_W...wait, what?"_

"_That whole... __**thing**__. 'Now's your moment'. Gaga, that was... ugh. I was such a self-righteous little prick just because I thought I had the crowd on my side."_

"_Look, Kurt, you've got nothing to apologize for. I was the one who freaked out and ran off, and then avoided you for the rest of the school year."_

"_I've got __**plenty**__ to apologize for. I was so judgemental about you and Santana. You weren't ready to come out, and I should have respected that. I never did."_

"_You didn't have to."_

"_Yes, Dave. Yes, I should. I got to thinking - how would I have felt if it had been __**you**__ pushing __**me**__ to come out when even my dad had no idea?"_

"_He... really didn't?"_

"_Well... okay, when I __**thought**__ my dad had no idea, but still."_

"_Heh. I bet he took it well."_

"_He'd guessed way back when I was three. Apparently I asked for a pair of sensible heels for Christmas."_

"_Jesus, Kurt, you must have been the most fabulous kid on the block!"_

"_Stop laughing! It was... a big deal for me."_

"_Sorry, Kurt."_

"_You're still smirking."_

"_I... I can't help it, I keep picturing you with all this haute couture swagger at like 6 or something."_

"_Did... did you just say __**haute**__ friggin' __**couture**__?"_

"_Don't look so shocked, __**Fancy**__. I'm not as dumb as I look, y'know."_

"_Right. Right. Cos... actually... wait, you're really not. Your dad said you used to be like this total brainiac. Wow, you hide that well."_

"_I guess I'm good at hiding ...stuff."_

"_I'm not gonna make a __**thing**__ of it, don't worry. You aren't ready to come out yet, I guess I'll have to bide my time. I mean, it'd be nice to have another gay friend to hang out with, but..."_

"_Actually... I'd really love to spend more time with you."_

"_...I'm sorry, what?"_

"_Now __**you're**__ laughing."_

"_No, it... it just... you caught me off guard! You'd... __**really**__ volunteer to spend more time with me?"_

"_Sure. Why wouldn't I?"_

"_Cos I'm a total douche who won't shut up about your damn closet?"_

"_Except you said you would now."_

"_Um. Well. Yeah, I did say that, didn't I?"_

"_No takebacks!"_

"_Oh, Dave, __**really**__?"_

"_..."_

"_Stop __**giggling**__, damnit."_

"_..."_

"_I said __**stop!**__"_

"_I... I can't! Oh god, Kurt, the look on your face, it's... it's freakin' priceless!"_

"_Damn you, Karofsky!"_

"_Oh man... okay, now I __**know**__ things are different between us. __**Karofsky**__ could never have made you laugh. And now you're laughing __**again**__."_

"_Heh. I really am. And that's... that's __**you**__."_

"_I guess we could hang out together over the summer. It'd be... it'd be nice."_

"_Wanna grab a coffee? I've got nowhere particularly important to be."_

"_Thanks, Kurt. I'd love that."_

It had been a watershed moment for them both, and laid the foundations for a surprisingly enduring friendship. Kurt had even talked his dad into letting him spend time with Kurt in the house. But for that chance meeting, Dave wouldn't have had any idea where to go after he'd been ordered to leave by his father.

And now Dave stood before him, just as miserable and forlorn as when he'd told him he was _so freakin' sorry_ about everything. He hadn't realized how guilty Dave still felt about his bullying campaign against Kurt.

All he knew was that he wanted to take his pain away, and didn't know how to do it.

* * *

><p>"They're thrilled with the idea!" trilled Rachel.<p>

"Your dads?" asked Kurt. "They'll take him in?"

"They said they'd consider it a privilege!" she squealed. "David, you've got a proper bed to sleep in tonight!"

Dave suddenly realized this meant sharing a house with _Rachel Berry_. Once again, his skill at hiding his feelings came to his aid. "Awesome!" he smiled. "I'll be sure to tell 'em thanks when I move in, this is really generous of them."

_I'm gonna be living with __**Berry**__. Fuck. What have I let myself in for?_

To Dave's utter shock, Rachel flung herself at him and threw her arms around him like a beloved relative. "You're gonna get on great with us, David!" she enthused.

Dave hugged her back, largely out of not really knowing what else to do. Finally, they broke the hug. "We can pick your things up after school," smiled Rachel.

"Thanks," replied Dave, his smile fading slightly at the thought of no longer sharing a roof with Kurt.

Once Rachel was out of earshot, Kurt spoke up. "Does it feel like your life's suddenly on rails?" he asked. "Honestly?"

Dave sighed. "Beats feeling like it's on _fire_, like the past few days," he shrugged.

Kurt had no answer for that. Having to live with Rachel was probably a step up from living a lie at home, or being thrown out, or having to sleep on a sofa too small for you. He nodded sympathetically.

* * *

><p>Throughout the course of the day, the assaults continued. He was tripped up once, pushed into lockers three times and slushied not just once, but <em>twice<em>. Mercifully, he'd taken three spare tops to school in case of such emergencies, but it didn't help his mood much.

And he could have sworn Azimio had blanked him. Not even so much as a glance. He'd just walked straight past, staring at the ground, looking embarrassed.

All of it, coupled with the fact that he'd be moving away from Kurt, left him feeling despondent by the end of the school day. He found everything ready for him to move to the Berry household when he made it back to the Hummel-Hudsons, and it felt for all the world like he was being thrown out again. He looked like a kicked puppy.

The realization hit Kurt almost too late. "You're not being kicked out," he urged Dave. "You're always welcome here, don't ever forget that."

Dave merely nodded sadly. He thought Kurt would have understood why he didn't want to leave; perhaps Kurt had done what he could to forget the conversation the previous evening over dinner.

With his belongings in the truck, he followed Leroy as he drove home with Rachel in the passenger seat. He had no idea what to expect: he knew Rachel had two dads, but how did a gay couple function, much less a gay couple with a daughter?

A daughter. How did that even work? He had so many questions spinning around his head he just couldn't picture life with the Berrys. He hoped they could at least give him some answers.

As they pulled up outside the Berry household, he noticed a man stood outside to greet them. It had to be Hiram. It took him a moment to remember they were a couple. They just looked like two guys.

Until they embraced a little more warmly than he'd grown to expect from two men. This was no manly hug. This was... this was _cuddling_. It was only a step away from...

_Holy shit. They just kissed. Out in the open._ It had only been a peck on the lips, but the affection between the two men was undeniable. Dave felt a twinge in his stomach as he watched. Then he noticed Rachel heading over.

"Are you staying in there all night?" she demanded. Playfully, but still.

"Oh," blurted Dave. "Uh. Yeah. Sorry, I'll, uh..." The tender moment had lost him his bearings, and he needed a moment to recover.

Rachel immediately became concerned. "David?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

"I've... I've never seen a real gay couple before," gulped Dave. "Y'know, besides Kurt and Blaine."

"Are you okay with this?" quizzed Rachel. "Honestly?"

"Okay?" repeated Dave, his throat tightening as a tear rolled down his cheek. He pointed to the couple, still stood on the doorstep, doubtless discussing their new house guest.

"I wanna be just like them when I'm older," croaked Dave as the tears began to flow more freely. He'd never dared to let himself believe that his life could be anything approaching normal, and here it was, right in front of him: a gay couple, with a _daughter_, no less, discussing the household. Just like a husband and ...well, just like a married couple. That hadn't just been a twinge in his stomach - it had been a bloom of hope, and it almost threatened to undo him.

Rachel opened the door and reached out to Dave's shoulder to comfort him. "I hope you get to be, David," she whispered, her own throat constricting at Dave's reaction. Dave placed a hand on Rachel's and smiled weakly to her in gratitude.

"C'mon," gulped Rachel, trying to hold it together for Dave. "Lets get you inside. Dinner won't be long."

Once inside the Berry home, Dave couldn't help but notice how _ordinary_ everything looked. He'd not really thought things through properly, and inwardly kicked himself for assuming that a gay household would look any different to anyone else's. He'd subconsciously extrapolated Kurt's fashion sense to Hiram and Leroy's taste in interior decorating.

There was no similarity at all. It just looked... well, _nice._ Like a well kept suburban home. Another thought occurred to him.

_I could live here. I could actually like living here._

"Welcome to the Berry household, Dave," smiled Hiram, offering an outstretched hand. Dave took it, they shared a glance, and hugged briefly. Once again, it felt... _normal_. Dave loved that feeling. The one thing he particularly feared about being gay was that his life would never feel _normal_ ever again.

But this was it. This, right here, felt like almost all he needed. He briefly imagined having a life like this with someone else. Inevitably, he imagined it with Kurt.

It was never going to happen, of course, because it was too good to be true... but it felt nice to imagine. Perhaps someday he'd be ready to have it with someone else.

Perhaps.

* * *

><p>"You seem to be settling in well."<p>

Kurt was relieved to see Dave much happier that he had been the previous evening. Rachel had invited him over to spend time with Dave and help him settle in, but as far as Kurt could tell he already had. "Yeah, it feels... it feels good," ventured Dave.

"So you're okay here?"

"Yeah, I'm great! It really feels like a ho..." He stalled, catching himself just too late. He figured he may as well finish the sentiment, as Kurt would probably guess it. "Like a home," he winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it..."

Kurt raised a palm to Dave to hush him. "It's okay, this _is_ more of a home," he agreed. "You have a room to yourself, an actual bed, places to put your clothes... it's exactly the right environment. Speaking of which," he continued, "how are you getting on with the dads?"

"They're amazing!" enthused Dave. "They're just these regular guys, y'know? Except they totally talk about guys the way most dudes talk about women. The pecs, the legs, the jawline, 'damn, he's cute', 'wow, that ass', that kinda thing," he grinned.

"They're guys, they probably would," smiled Kurt. "Did they figure out your type yet?"

"My... what?" spluttered Dave. "I... I don't have a _type_."

"You totally do!" challenged Kurt. "Lets see, there's Timberlake, there's... well... me," he recalled, slightly uncomfortably. "Any others that might have caught your eye?" he smirked impishly.

"Well..." considered Dave. "Di Caprio? Johnny Depp? Michael Cera was pretty cool as Scott Pilgrim too," he pondered idly.

"I knew it!" yelped Kurt excitedly. "You're into twinks!"

Dave rejected the accusation out of hand. "Depp and Di Caprio are _not twinks!_" he insisted sharply. "Besides, what about _your_ type?"

"...What? I don't... what?" stammered Kurt.

"C'mon!" demanded Dave. "You're all about Daniel Craig, Brandon Routh, Matt Damon, and I bet you wanted to see Conan The Barbarian or Game Of Thrones even though you think they're beneath you, just so you could stare at Jason Momoa!" he grinned.

"That's..." Kurt faltered. _Pretty accurate. But I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction._ "Damn you, Karofsky," he hissed coolly, under his breath.

"So that's... oh, look. Beefcake, beefcake and beefcake, with an extra helping of more beefcake!" chuckled Dave. He paused for a second. He'd noticed the exception. "So... how come you're with the side salad?" he asked.

"You did _not_ just refer to Blaine as _salad!_" gasped Kurt, suppressing a cackle.

"Well, he sure as hell isn't brawny," shrugged Dave with a smirk.

"That's not even the point!" huffed Kurt. "He's... cute. And charming. And besides," he shrugged, "the heart wants what the heart wants."

Dave couldn't argue with that. "You got me," he sighed.

"So," demanded Kurt. "No more talk of _salad_, right?"

"I could make a comment about cucumber, here," grinned Dave, "but I think I'll resist."

"Dave!" blurted Kurt in shock. "That's... dear _Gaga_, that's just..."

"Hey, I'm just embracing the gay and getting in touch with my cheeky side," grinned Dave.

"No, you're embracing the _rude_!" exclaimed Kurt. "Dave, that was... that was _filthy_!"

"Depends where you put it," giggled Dave.

"Okay, stop that _now_," snapped Kurt, determined to stop the level of conversation reaching the sewers; as it was, it already appeared to be circling the drain.

"Okay, I'll stop, I promise," smiled Dave.

"You do seem much happier here," observed Kurt.

"Well... yeah, mostly," sighed Dave. "I kinda miss being at your place though."

"Around me, you mean," noted Kurt, giving Dave a look that made it clear he hadn't forgotten the revelation that had surfaced only days before. Dave sighed and nodded sadly.

"Like you said," shrugged Dave, "the heart wants what the heart wants. Apart from that, though, I've settled in pretty well. Rachel's... well... mostly bearable," he smiled weakly.

"If she ever makes you feel like jumping off a bridge, _call me_, okay?" grinned Kurt. "I imagine you know this by now, but she, eh... she can be a little intense."

"A lot," nodded Dave. "A _fuck_ of a lot."

Kurt's eyes widened. "No jumping! I'm right on the end of the phone!" he teased with a smirk. Dave chuckled.

"No killing Dave," he nodded with a grin. "Got it."

* * *

><p><em>Davina<em> Karofsky, on the other hand, Dave could quite happily _strangle_.

Monday had rolled around all too soon and, while life at the Berr... life _at home_ had become a genuine sanctuary from the madness and misery his life had become, it was only a brief respite. His locker still shouted "FAG" at him in angry red as he'd seen no point in wasting his time trying to clean it off, but now there was some rumor drifting around the school about this _Davina_.

Several rumors, as it turned out. The majority were salacious, crude and occasionally plain warped. She had a string of one-night stands. She stuffed her bra. She was pre-op. She wore a strap-on. She masqueraded... as a jock.

They weren't even being subtle.

What struck Dave, though, was how they all seemed to be the _same_ kind of rumor. Like a handful of them had been circulated far and wide somehow. A theory came to him, and he looked up the name "Davina Karofsky" on Facebook from his phone.

Oh. Right. Obviously.

The profile picture was, no surprise, of him - except in garish makeup and a badly-pasted-on hairdo. It looked like only a minimum of effort had been put into it - or a minimum of skill. He tried to convince himself it was the latter: if they'd actually spent time on it, it would at least have meant they were _trying_ to make an impact, which would have made it perfectly _fine_ for it to hurt this much. If they'd just thrown it together, then they were getting that much hurt out of him for almost no effort, and that just compounded the injustice of it.

The whole profile was a hideous parody. The profile info, interests, wall posts, photos... and it was all public. Anyone could see this. No doubt it had been shared far and wide by now.

Every mention of Davina from then on was like a paper cut: small, barely drawing blood but stinging like a bitch every single time. Not knowing who'd set it up was the worst part. Maybe he could get Finn or Puck to find out? Shane, maybe? Mike? Hell, _someone_, surely? Not Azimio, though - not if he wasn't even going to speak to him.

Dave hoped he wasn't actually involved in it. He decided to do some digging.

**Hey Finn, any chance you could find out from Z what he knows about the Davina Karofsky FB profile that's been set up?**

Finn hadn't even seen it.

_**davina karofsky? wtf. who set that up?**_

Dave's eyes almost rolled involuntarily.

**That's what I'm trying to find out. I'm really hoping Z wasn't directly involved with it. It's the kind of dick move Strando might pull. It's not Z's style.**

_**ill ask him. hope your right. dosnt sound like sumthing hed do.**_

_Jesus, Finn, are you allergic to apostrophes? And the spelling. Ugh._ Even reading Finn's responses made Dave wince.

He appreciated the sentiment, all the same. He really wanted to believe Z had no part of it. It was too vindictive: it just wasn't Z's style at all.

Unless his attitude had slid south since the summit in the locker room.

* * *

><p>The whole thing was ruining his concentration. He sat in the library during a study break, trying to focus on the work in front of him, and nothing was sticking. When Kurt appeared and sat next to him, it almost came as a relief.<p>

Kurt looked troubled, however. As much as it was preferable to focus on Kurt's problems rather than his own, he never liked to see Kurt upset. He resolved to get to the bottom of it. If he couldn't sort out his own problems, maybe he could at least sort out someone else's.

Okay, not just "someone". Kurt. Kurt in particular. Perhaps _solely_. He suspected he wouldn't be so easily distracted by, say, Rachel's problems, or Finn's. "What's on your mind?" he asked Kurt, who looked like he was wrestling with a decision.

Kurt gave Dave a reluctant look. He opened his mouth. Then he closed it and swallowed nervously. Clearly he was keeping something from Dave; that didn't sit well with him. Hadn't they made enough progress to tell each other almost anything now? It wasn't about Dave's feelings for him, was it?

Dave decided to give him a push. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" he reminded Kurt. Kurt's look descended into concern, with more than a shadow of dread. Dave's expression naturally drifted south to mirror it.

"Kurt, please," he urged. "You're scaring me. What's happened to you?" He hoped that the suggestion that Kurt was the affected party would force Kurt to correct him.

It worked. "It's... it's not about me," he replied haltingly. "It's... oh, Dave," he sighed desolately.

"Tell me," begged Dave. "Please. I can't protect myself against something I don't know."

Kurt steeled himself. "What do you know about..." He faltered. How could he break the news to Dave about this... _thing_ they'd done?

"Kurt?" pleaded Dave.

Kurt tried again. "What do you know about... Davina?" he asked, his body stiffened as though in preparation for a collision.

Dave exhaled, partly out of relief at the discovery that it wasn't something else, and partly out of misery that Kurt had discovered it. "The Facebook profile?" he sighed miserably.

Kurt collapsed into his seat, the relief washing over him. "Thank Gaga you already know," he breathed. "I had no idea how to break the bad news to you."

Dave regarded his friend, and it dawned on him how important it must have been to him not to be the cause of any more of Dave's pain. The notion perked him up slightly. "Thanks for making the effort," he smiled. "Means a lot that you'd give me a heads-up on stuff like that."

"It wouldn't have been fair to keep you in the dark," insisted Kurt. "How much do you know?"

Dave shrugged. "I've been all over the profile," he explained. "Can't find any proof about who set it up. The writing's sloppy so it's clearly someone dumb."

"It's homophobic garbage," huffed Kurt. "I think 'dumb' is a prerequisite."

Dave sighed. "I just hope to god it wasn't Z," he pleaded to nobody in particular. "If he'd actually resort to something like this..."

"Don't be so quick to blame him," suggested Kurt. "Is there any way you can find out?"

"I've got Finn on the case already," nodded Dave. "Hopefully he'll come up with the answers I'm after."

"With any luck," offered Kurt hopefully, "he'll come back to you with the answer you _want_."

Dave returned a noncommittal shrug. He couldn't let himself believe that Z was innocent until he knew for sure... but at the same time, he couldn't bear to believe he was guilty.

"Hey," insisted Kurt. "This thing you're doing? Assuming the worst of everyone? That's no way to be. It'll just drive you crazy. If he looked so ashamed of his reaction to you, it's likely he's as pissed about this as you are."

Dave wanted to believe it, not because it would make things easier but because it would mean Kurt was right. "I hope you're right, Kurt," he sighed.

_I'm guessing you're wrong,_ he thought.

* * *

><p>He wasn't wrong.<p>

"Z was seriously pissed," recounted Finn. "He called it... what was it he said? Juvil... julie... javelin?" he attempted weakly.

Dave tried not to laugh. "Juvenile," he grinned. "So he had nothing to do with it?" he asked excitedly.

"Not a thing," confirmed Finn. "He's trying to get to the bottom of it too. Don't worry, dude," he assured Dave. "We'll figure it out."

Dave found himself less concerned with the identity of the culprit knowing that it wasn't Azimio. As long as his friend hadn't completely turned on him, it wouldn't sting quite so much. The news had been worth waiting most of the day for.

Rachel had joined them, almost unnoticed. "Hey, Dave!" she chirped, almost giving Dave a heart attack from the shock.

"Jesus, Rachel, d'you have to sneak up on us?" he spluttered, trying to control his breathing.

"Shall I bring a bullhorn next time?" she snarked. Finn giggled. Finn was bound to. Finn was _biased_. Dave rolled his eyes and grunted.

"Oh!" added Rachel. "I got your friend request, by the way."

Dave's eyes widened in horror. He hadn't logged into Facebook since he was outed; everything else had taken precedence. Besides, he'd been less than enthusiastic to find out what state his wall was in since the news broke.

Which meant that the friend request... _oh, fuck._

Kurt's expression mirrored Dave's as the notion dawned on him. "Rachel," he explained quietly, his voice slightly tremulous, "I don't think that was Dave."

Rachel looked confused. Not so Finn; he suddenly understood what must have happened. "Oh shit," he blurted. "Not Davina."

Rachel was even more confused. "Who the hell is Davina?" she asked, mystified.

Dave sighed and shook his head. His shoulders sagged as he fished his phone from his pocket, pulled up the profile and showed it to Rachel. She scrolled through the wall, reading through the hideous posts, her expression darkening all the while, before scrolling up and seeing the profile picture.

The two most recent posts were about her: the friend request... and a request to be listed as her girlfriend. She was livid.

"Who did this?" she snapped.

"Damned if we know," sighed Dave resignedly. "All we know is it wasn't any of us. Oh, or Azimio."

"I'm reporting this crap," seethed Rachel. "This is harassment! It's cyberbullying!"

"It's also been reported a few times already," sighed Kurt. "They're taking their sweet time dealing with it. Mark Zuckerberg sends his regards," he grunted.

"You better defriend 'em," suggested Dave. "I hope to god they haven't grabbed your entire photo album by now."

The thought hadn't yet occurred to either Rachel, Kurt or Finn that they'd basically have access to everything on Rachel's profile. Their alarm increased. "Oh god, the photos!" blurted Finn. "They're gonna put Dave in them in my place and repost them everywhere!"

Rachel's dismay was palpable. "Especially as we're living together now!" she wailed. "Oh god, what have I done?"

"Hey," urged Dave, placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder as he looked her in the eye. "Don't go blaming yourself for this. It was an easy enough mistake. You're not the one who'll be doing stuff with the photos, it's them. Or him. Or whoever the fuck it is. But you shouldn't feel responsible for it."

Kurt found his respect for Dave growing steadily. Even through this much abuse, he still felt a desire to help his friends and reassure them. It reminded him just how far Dave had come.

Rachel smiled and let out a sigh. "Thanks, Dave," she nodded. "I am sorry about this, but I won't let it get me down... just as long as you don't," she offered.

Dave raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Yeah, I'll get right on that, I guess," he sighed.

* * *

><p>Easier said than done.<p>

"This... this is _horrible_," moaned Dave as he sat at Rachel's computer at home. He and Rachel had discovered a Tumblr account, dedicated to badly-manipulated images of both of them. In many instances, their heads had been crudely pasted into pornographic images. As usual, their first port of call was the Report Abuse mechanism - but they couldn't find one. After a spot of Googling, they found a support email address and reported it that way. Maybe the Tumblr support team would do something about it.

Maybe not.

"This is no good," huffed Rachel. "Sitting here getting wound up about it isn't helping either of us. We should forget about this whole thing and ignore the pathetic homophobes who set these things up. They're not worth our time."

"You don't understand, Rachel," replied Dave, his voice thick with anguish. "Those 'pathetic homophobes' used to be my friends. The people who did this to me? They were my friends before all of this happened." He looked at the screen, his eyes beginning to sting with unshed tears. "My friends did this to me," he croaked desolately.

Rachel began to understand: it wasn't the images or the Facebook posts that were hurting Dave. It was the people behind them, because of what they used to mean to him. She threw an arm over Dave's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Dave," she uttered meekly. "I shouldn't have been so... insensitive. You're absolutely right. They're more than just a bunch of neanderthals to you, they're your... _were_ your friends?" she ventured.

"Yeah," confirmed Dave miserably. "Friends don't do this to each other. They're no friends of mine." His voice cracked as he stated the point, and Rachel felt a surge of empathy for the desolate ex-jock. She threw both arms around him, and still found herself taken aback when she heard him quietly sobbing on her shoulder. She hoped against hope that she could come up with a way to raise his spirits.

But for now, at least, there was nothing she could do to help.

* * *

><p><em>(AN: I feel kinda horrid for doing this to Dave. And there's worse to come. Oh well, I'd better get the next chapter finished... god knows how I'm going to do that. Oh, my poor Davey. -Liam)_


	5. Life Is Unkind And Over So Soon

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters or anything. If this chapter is anything to go by, it's probably just as well for them. :'(_

_WARNING: mentions of physical assault, suicide. If these are triggers for you, proceed with caution._

* * *

><p><strong>C<strong>**hapter 5: Life Is Unkind And Over So Soon**

Rachel had no idea how to help Dave get out from the misery he'd fallen into. Reminding him that Azimio hadn't been involved in the Davina incident only served to remind him that Azimio wouldn't talk to him since he'd left the team, which reminded him he'd lost all of his friends on the team. Reassuring him he still had the glee club to lean on only reinforced his perception that they were the _only_ people he could lean on. And the attempted therapeutic tear down of the Tumblr account veered wildly off-course: Rachel brought Kurt around to add his particularly acerbic critique, the point was raised that the images weren't even up to amateur level and that they could do better themselves, the idea of showing them how it was done was raised, and then Kurt noticed Dave's eyebrows for whatever reason and pointed out how well they'd lend themselves to drag.

A huge mistake, of course: Dave made the connection from drag to cleavage and suddenly he'd self-effacingly thrown the phrase "bitch tits" into the discussion. As much as Kurt tried to persuade him that he actually had a nice set of pecs rather than just ungainly moobs, Dave wouldn't take the compliment, and it was all body issues and self-conscious floor-gazing from there.

Rachel had made a mental note about Dave's self-image. She'd had no idea he felt so bad about the way he looked, and she was determined she'd find a way to help him with it somehow. For now, however, he seemed unwilling to listen, and she didn't have a clue how to approach the topic.

She might have to seek Kurt's help again. After all, he'd said... _really nice set of pecs?_ That didn't exactly sound like Kurt. Especially when discussing Dave. Maybe it was just an extrapolation of his recently self-appointed role as Dave's champion.

She found it hard to imagine it could be more than that.

* * *

><p>The bullying didn't let up all week - the shoulder-barges, the slushie facials, the vicious rumors. Dave tried not to show how much it was wearing him down, and for the most part people seemed to buy it.<p>

However, on Thursday, Dave had received a glimmer of hope.

**follow up summit about dave. all titans, locker room, just before lunch.**

He found himself headed to the locker room once again, only this time he actually felt a little optimistic. For the first time in a week, it looked like there was a chance things might start to go his way. He'd missed the team, and maybe Azimio would actually talk to him for once. Maybe it just took them this long to get over it, and the brief but painful cyberbullying incident was their way of getting it out of their systems.

Maybe they were bringing him back on to the team.

_Who cares?_ he thought. _At least I'll get Z back on my side again._ That thought buoyed his mood as he reached the locker room.

It also left him completely unprepared for the three figures clad in ski masks waiting for him inside. The moment he entered, they grabbed him, tied his hands behind his back, pinned him down and armed themselves with spray cans. He panicked, and started hollering for help. The only difference that made was the gag they tied around him. He desperately struggled to break free of his captors, but they were determined to finish what they'd lured him here for. The cans, it turned out, contained hair color spray - metallic pink in one and glitter in the other.

They were giving him a big gay makeover. A particularly tasteless one - once again, he hoped it was out of stylistic ineptitude rather than intent. They were strong enough to stop him from breaking free of them, so they had to have been jocks too.

None of them looked like Azimio. They all had white hands. The only comfort he could draw from this horror was that Azimio wouldn't pull this shit.

By the time help arrived in the form of Coach Beiste, he'd stopped struggling. There no longer seemed any point; they were going to do what they were doing to him regardless, and as much as he thrashed about to escape, he only seemed to be wasting his energy. The sight of the coach made his attackers bolt, and she was too confounded by the state they'd left Dave in to give chase.

"My god, what have they done to you?" she gasped as she made her way over to free his hands and untie the gag.

Dave lay there looking utterly defeated. "I guess they thought I needed a makeover," he replied blankly.

"C'mon, kid, lets get you sat up," said Beiste soothingly as she lifted him by the arm. He swung a leg over and sat down on the bench.

"Tell me what happened, kid," urged Beiste. Dave explained how he'd been lured to the locker room by the text and then been ambushed and spray-painted. Beiste was appalled.

"You got any idea who did this to you?" she asked, with an edge to her tone.

"No idea," replied Dave, his tone still vacant. "Definitely not Azimio, Rashad or Shane. Their hands were all white. I'd rule out Chang, too," he added. "He's got his head screwed on the right way, at least."

Beiste nodded. "Well, that narrows it down, at least," she sighed.

"Hold on," continued Dave suddenly. "The glee club guys. They're all with me. So that's Hudson, Puckerman, uh... Abrams, obviously, cos there was no wheelchair," he noted.

Coach Beiste chuckled quietly at the observation. "Okay, that's good," she replied brightly. "Should be able to whittle it down from there."

Dave fell silent. He honestly didn't think the culprits would ever be found for sure, or punished.

"I take it this means you're not willing to come back?" observed Beiste wryly.

"Not my decision," replied Dave. "I'd rejoin for sure, but since the team's mascot still appears to be a giant douche, I'm evidently not welcome. Talk them out of crap like this," he challenged, pointing to his discolored hair, "maybe I'll be willing to come back."

Beiste observed him shrewdly. "You want back on the team, I can tell," she insisted.

Dave shot her down in an instant. "Not when they're freaking out about me like that," he refuted. "Screw 'em."

Beiste paused to survey the former jock as he sat by her. "I see how miserable you are, David," she noted eventually.

The deja vu knocked Dave sideways. Hearing Kurt's words leave Beiste's mouth was the last thing he expected, and his jaw dropped. He felt a lump in his throat suddenly, and his eyes stung.

"I'll do what I can to snap 'em out of it," promised Beiste, "but you might wanna try building a few bridges yourself. I'm pretty sure Adams misses you being there."

"Bullshit," grunted Dave, trying not to get his hopes up, but failing. _He misses me? He actually gives a shit about me? Oh god, Coach, I wish you were right._ He felt tears forming in his eyes.

"You think?" rebutted Beiste. "I see how miserable _he_ is, too."

Dave's throat constricted at this. "You think he misses me?" he gulped.

Beiste nodded. "I'm sure of it," she insisted gently.

Dave felt tears upon his face and no longer cared. "He's been my best friend for years," he explained tremulously. "I miss him. I just want my best friend back," he croaked, trying not to break down in front of the coach.

Not that it would have bothered her. She moved alongside Dave, and placed an arm across Dave's shoulders. "I'll do what I can to ease things along," she promised. "I'm not saying he'll get over it tomorrow, but maybe soon the moment will come when he can."

Once again, the words hit him like a body blow.

"_...maybe soon the moment will arise..."_

The facade crumbled, and the spark of hope unravelled him. As he began to sob openly, no longer able to hold back, Beiste pulled him into a hug, trying not to unravel a little herself. She was a far more emotional person than the jocks truly realized, and she preferred to keep that side of herself from them.

Nonetheless, she couldn't stop a few tears escaping for the downtrodden teen.

* * *

><p>Beiste had suggested he use the showers to wash the spray out of his hair, and he'd decided to skip lunch anyway so he took his time. The hot water was therapeutic and helped him calm himself.<p>

Meanwhile, Kurt had noticed Dave's absence at lunch.

"Something's not right," he guessed. "He'd have texted me if he was going to be this late."

"Or maybe he wanted some alone time and you interrupting him - wherever he might be right now - would be unwelcome," suggested Blaine. "You're probably better off leaving him to his own devices."

Kurt noticed a few jocks taking their seats, having appeared a little late. They seemed a little smug, like they'd just had some kind of shared victory. His suspicions grew immediately. "I think something's happened to Dave," he observed, a note of worry entering his tone.

"I'm sure he's big and ugly enough to take care of himself," sighed Blaine irritably. Kurt flinched at the use of the word _ugly_.

"You can't know that for sure," he replied. He made a decision. "I'm going to finish up here and go find him," he declared, rushing his lunch.

Blaine's irritation grew. "You're not his keeper, Kurt," he admonished, a note of sharpness in his tone.

"No, I'm his _friend_," retaliated Kurt. "And friends are supposed to look out for each other, which just shows how few _friends_ Dave seems to have these days." He gulped down the remains of his lunch and left, leaving Blaine in a state of combined shock and annoyance.

Kurt wandered the corridors, suddenly realizing he had no idea where to look. His mind drifted to the smug looking jocks, and an idea came to him.

The locker room.

_Yes, because bursting in on Dave in the locker room has gone __**so**__ well for me in the past,_ he noted to himself.

_Screw it,_ he thought again. _If he needs help, he needs help. Location be damned._

He burst into the locker room, not knowing what to expect. Was Dave beaten? Tied up? Unconscious?

No. No, he was... _naked_. What the... _don't look don't look DON'T LOOK oh god look at that NO DON'T holy crap DAMMIT STOP LOOKING._

Kurt found himself frozen in place, his jaw drooping open. It felt like whole minutes had passed; in reality, it was barely even a second. "Jesus, Kurt!" cried Dave, covering as much of himself as he could with the towel in his hands. "Turn around! Don't look at me!" he spluttered, embarrassedly.

Kurt snapped out of his hesitancy and did exactly as Dave demanded. "Sorry!" he squeaked, equally embarrassed to have been caught staring. He immediately wanted to turn back. It had only been a glimpse, but Kurt had so many questions. Many of them were about his figure.

The one that stood out was the pink hair. He addressed it. "Dave?" he asked, still facing away. "What the hell happened to your hair?"

Dave finished drying himself as he answered Kurt's questions. "I was ambushed," he grunted. "Bunch of jocks lured me here and spray-painted it."

Kurt was horrified. "They did _what?_" he barked.

"Been trying to get the stuff out of my hair, but I don't think it's gonna budge by the end of lunch," sighed Dave.

"Um..." started Kurt. He found it unsettling talking to someone while facing away from them. "Let me know when I can turn around, okay?" he asked.

"Sure," agreed Dave. He grabbed his t-shirt, also spray-painted with a big Q on the back, and pulled it on.

"Does anyone else know about this?" asked Kurt.

"Only the coach," replied Dave, pulling on the rest of his clothes as quickly as he could. "I narrowed down the list of suspects for her, but I doubt they'll find who did it."

Kurt pictured the group of jocks who arrived late for lunch. "I think one of them was kinda big, with curly blond hair," he recalled.

Dave's expression became neutral. "Strando," he noted.

"You know who?" gasped Kurt.

"Oh, you can turn around now," added Dave.

Kurt turned and made his way over to Dave. "You know one of them?" he repeated, eager to find someone to take out Dave's hardships on.

"Apparently, I don't _know_ any of them," shrugged Dave. "I don't know anyone who wants to spray someone else's hair pink. But yeah," he confirmed. "Sounds like Strando was one of them. It fits."

"It fits?" blurted Kurt. "How exactly does it _fit_?"

"His reaction was particularly bad," explained Dave. "He was one of the first to complain about having to play alongside me. He was one of the most vocal, too."

"Cretin," snarled Kurt.

"I think he was behind the Tumblr account too," added Dave. "One of the photos' captions mentioned 'Finnderella' - he calls Finn that sometimes. I've got a feeling it's not coincidence."

"Haven't they shut that down yet?" sighed Kurt irritably.

"Last I checked, no," replied Dave, shaking his head. "I guess they've got more photos to add to the collection now."

"They took photos of you while they did this?" gasped Kurt.

"I heard some kind of camera shutter sound, so I figure they did," sighed Dave. "That doesn't bother me so much as having to face everyone else like this," he winced. "And I need a replacement t-shirt. Again."

Kurt considered Dave's predicament briefly. "I think I can help with the hair," he affirmed.

* * *

><p>Five minutes later, Kurt had retrieved a replacement t-shirt from Dave's locker, and a scarf he'd stashed in his own locker and forgotten about as he'd decided nothing really went with it. It made a perfect bandanna, and covered Dave's unwelcome hairdo without any difficulties. The teachers gave him odd looks for the rest of the day, but to his relief they didn't question him about it.<p>

More entertaining was the reaction from the other students. By now the news of Dave's sexuality was common knowledge, but the sudden appearance of a bandanna over his hair left many of them decidedly spooked. It took a little while for the penny to drop, but it finally dawned on Dave that they'd taken it as some kind of gang thing.

_They think I've joined a gay street gang. Amazing. _

Once the day was over and he'd made it home, he had another few goes at removing the offending - to say nothing of _offensive_ - hair coloring. It took a few attempts, but eventually it all came out: to his relief, he wouldn't have to worry about looking like a complete freak show the following day. The Berrys had been disconcerted by the news of the attack, but they noted that Dave seemed to be handling it okay. Hiram seemed to take Dave's recollection of the day's events worse than Leroy, but even he seemed to relax about it upon seeing how Dave was handling it. If anything, Rachel seemed indignant that Dave hadn't brought it all to her.

Inwardly, however, Dave's mind was racing. He was desperately trying to preempt whatever trials they had planned for him the following day. He'd been in the closet for so long he'd become a master at hiding what was in his heart or on his mind, and when he set his mind on keeping something secret, nobody could read it on him.

He never stopped to consider how hard he was making it for anyone else to protect him.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry?" asked Kurt. Surely he'd misheard.<p>

Coach Beiste had called him in for a discussion about the idea he'd raised about compulsory PFFLAG membership for the jocks, with a view to scaling it down. More accurately, using a more targeted approach. "I want to focus on the guys who might be conducive to a little education," she suggested. "I think it's important that Azimio, in particular, gets his head straightened out. It'd help Dave a lot."

"You're right, it would," nodded Kurt. "It's clear just how much Dave misses him. Losing such a long-standing friendship must have hurt far more than anything else. Maybe even more than any beating could," he mused.

"All I know is, Dave needs the team and the team needs Dave," explained Beiste. "I'm pretty sure getting them over their issues will be key to that. The few who don't wanna get over it can go take a hike."

"I had no idea they were such dead weight," observed Kurt, wide-eyed in surprise.

"Well, we'll probably miss Carter," shrugged Beiste, "but if it means getting Dave back, I'm willing to make the sacrifice." She paused. "You don't actually know how good he is, do you?" she asked.

"I..." Kurt started. Good at what? Crashing into the other team? Throwing the ball? Kicking the ball? _Hell, even I can kick the ball,_ he mused. "Actually, uh, no," he admitted. "I don't even know what good _is_ in football. I used to be a good kicker, apparently. Won a game once," he boasted. He couldn't resist, and who'd begrudge him that?

Not Beiste - she hadn't even heard of Kurt's brief stint as a Titan. "You were on the team?" she blurted, agape.

"Yeah, about two years ago - only for one game," explained Kurt, "and only to offer them a little tutelage in elegance and dexterity. They were kinda... clod-hopping."

"Sounds like one of the few things Tanaka got right," noted Beiste, recalling her predecessor's one notable victory.

"I remember how insistent he was about team members not 'wasting time' on glee," sighed Kurt. "I'm glad you don't feel the same way."

"Oh, the more, the merrier," smiled Beiste. "Like you said, the dancing gave them a helluva boost to their coordination, their ability to move as a single unit... hell, it brought the team together like nothing else. Did you happen to see the halftime show we put on last year?"

"I remember that!" exclaimed Kurt. "Wasn't Dave a part of that?"

"Eventually," chuckled Beiste. "I think it was a combination of the crowd's reaction and the fact that, deep down, he really gets a kick out of the whole dancing thing."

"And the singing thing," enthused Kurt. "New Directions are lucky to have him!"

"Quit it, kid, you're making me jealous," grunted Beiste, albeit with a smile.

Kurt considered the coach's initial request. Puck and Finn might be conducive to being approached for one-on-one PFFLAG meetings, but if Azimio wasn't speaking to Dave, he'd be even less likely to speak to Kurt. "I'll see what I can do about talking them round," he assured Beiste. "I don't know how Azimio's going to take the offer, though."

Beiste nodded. "I'll try softening him up for you," she offered. "If it's on my orders, he'll probably be more willing. Won't look like it was his decision, that'll probably help."

Kurt smiled. "Thanks, coach," he replied, relieved. "The fewer people pushing Dave around, the better."

* * *

><p>The day had gone pretty much as expected for Dave; slushies, locker barges and yet more <em>Davina<em>... but, mercifully, nothing major. No more ambushes in the locker room, no beatings, nothing. As his last period was a free for study, he decided to skip it and do his studying at home where he felt more comfortable. This week of school couldn't end soon enough for him.

As he headed out of school from the library, he noticed something at the far end of the corridor, near the exit. Something was suspended from the ceiling. He couldn't make it out from the distance.

As he got closer, he noticed it had human form. It had been suspended by the neck. He winced at the tastelessness, but couldn't take his eyes off it as he proceeded to the exit.

Then he recognized the jacket it was dressed in. The shape of it was unmistakable, even if the colors were hard to distinguish against the sunlight behind it. It was a letterman.

It was Dave's. _This..._ was Dave. His eyes were now fixed on the figure adorned to resemble him; it turned out to be a mannequin. As he got close enough to make out more detail, he realized it was also dressed in a tutu.

The jacket hadn't merely been put on, either. A scattering of garish metallic pink triangles had been sprayed on first. The same garish pink that had been used on his hair only a day earlier.

His feet dragged as he approached the figure, slack-jawed in horror. As he looked up, he noticed one last thing adorning it.

A shiny pink tiara.

This was all the Daves. The jacket represented Jock Dave. The tiara represented Prom King... no. Prom _Queen_ Dave. The tutu was Glee Club Dave. The triangles... they were Faggy Outed Dave. Obviously.

And they were all in the same noose.

_Dead Dave._

The thought turned his blood to ice, and the color drained from his face. As it did, his stomach started to tilt as a wave of nausea crashed over him. He made a run for the nearby exit, burst through the doors and his lunch parked itself unceremoniously over the concrete.

After the nausea had subsided, he stood in place for a minute or two, steadying himself against the wall, trying to process all of it. He felt utterly numb; he couldn't even bring himself to cry, despite the horror he'd just witnessed. The events of the past week seemed to catch up with him: the vandalizing of his locker, the cyberbullying, the locker room ambush... and now this.

A sense of defeat swamped him so profoundly it felt like it was seeping into his bones.

He made his way to his truck, climbed in and sat in the driver's seat for a while - motionless, expressionless, silent. Finally, he pulled out his phone, texted Finn to explain that he was headed home early and Rachel would need a lift, and made his way back to the Berry house.

The weekend hadn't come soon enough, after all.

* * *

><p>He wasn't the only one to see the mannequin. Mercifully, he'd be the only one who saw it fully clothed.<p>

Kurt and Blaine stood in front of it, also having decided to make use of the study period they each had at the end of their school day. Kurt was transfixed.

"_...no burning Liberace mannequins..._" murmured Kurt to nobody in particular, recalling a message he'd once heard from Dave through Santana's walkie talkie during Bully Whip duty.

"Hm. For the jocks, this is positively highbrow," surmised Blaine. "You have to admire them for that."

Kurt was appalled. "_Admire?_ Seriously?" he spluttered. "'Oh, those wacky homophobes, they do the most _hilarious_ slurs!'" he snapped, affecting the style of a critical review.

Blaine sighed. "Look, I won't deny this sucks for Dave," he shrugged, "but this took imagination. On a purely theatrical level, they've excelled themselves," he insisted, determined to stick to his point. "Where did they get the _tutu_?" he mused idly.

Kurt's outrage grew. "How can you possibly stand there and _defend_ any of this?" he growled. "After everything else they've put him through?"

"I'm not!" refuted Blaine. "I'm just saying, from a purely objective standpoint, this is kinda inventive."

Kurt was thunderstruck. "Well, good for them," he snarled. "They did this _clever, amusing, inventive_ thing to _another person_. To _hurt_ him," he hissed as he yanked off the defaced Letterman jacket and tutu. As the crown fell to the ground, Kurt gathered it up to prevent any more people seeing it. This obscenity didn't deserve the audience it sought.

"They could do worse than this to him," shrugged Blaine. "He's gonna have to toughen up."

Kurt turned to face Blaine, wearing a mildly venomous look. "Or maybe he could run away to Dalton?" he posited acidly.

Blaine was caught off guard by this, and his jaw drooped as his eyes narrowed at the insult.

"Oh, no, wait, he can't," continued Kurt harshly. "_His parents threw him out._"

Blaine was indignant. "You're not expecting me to feel sorry for him, are you?" he challenged. "After everything he's done to us?"

Kurt jumped at the point. "Exactly what has he done to _us_?" he retaliated. "He bullied me and it just sent me to you. But for him, we probably wouldn't be together! That's what he's _done_ to us," he spat.

Blaine refused to let it go. "He used to be a bully, Kurt," he maintained.

Kurt was incensed. "Oh, for god's sake, _stop!_" he barked. "He hasn't bullied anyone for months."

"And you think this won't send him off the rails again?" retorted Blaine.

Kurt was utterly exasperated. "I've had enough of this," he declared furiously. "I need to go home." He glared at Blaine. "And so do you," he hissed, before marching off, leaving Blaine stunned.

Blaine's expression darkened, and once Kurt was out of view, he glared up at the now-naked mannequin and thumped it like a punchbag before storming out.

* * *

><p>"Kurt?"<p>

Kurt had made his way over to Dave straight after dinner. Leroy had invited him in and directed him toward Dave's room. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," he explained. "I uh... saw something at school." _How do I tell you about... that? Please say you didn't see it._

Dave's face fell a little. "Did it involve a pink tiara?" he sighed.

Kurt wilted visibly. "I was hoping you hadn't seen," he winced.

Dave shook his head. "I don't even know who did it," he shrugged.

"Whoever did it deserves to hang in its place," spat Kurt.

Dave paused as he looked at Kurt. He never would have expected such a merciless judgement from him. "Wouldn't change things, would it?" he refuted.

"It'd make me feel a little better," bristled Kurt.

Dave saw no good answer to this, and played it neutral. "If you insist," he shrugged.

Kurt noticed Dave's discomfort with his opinion, and changed the topic. "I'll try to restore your letterman to its former glory," he assured him. "They shouldn't be able to take that away from you."

The gesture caught Dave off guard. "You don't have to do that, Kurt," he replied softly, his voice catching slightly.

"I know," nodded Kurt. "But I want to. It... it'd make me feel like I was doing something useful, at least."

Dave decided to accept the gesture in good grace. "One less reminder, I suppose," he nodded with a faint smile.

"On a related note," observed Kurt, the edge returning to his voice, "my boyfriend is an _asshole_."

"Where does he come into this?" asked Dave, confused.

"He actually expressed _admiration_ at the things they did to you," seethed Kurt.

Dave's already low spirits drifted further down. "He _what?_" he gasped.

Kurt nodded. "Seriously," he confirmed with a distinct air of distaste.

Dave's head drooped. "Exactly how much does he hate me?" he asked miserably.

Kurt moved immediately to correct Dave's take on Blaine's behavior. "I wouldn't say he hates you, exactly..." he started.

"Then what would you call it?" interrupted Dave. "Jesus, I can't even count on the other gay kids in school to have my back," he whined.

"Ignore him!" urged Kurt. "He's being an idiot. Glee Club might not be many of us, but we're all behind you."

Dave looked at Kurt despondently. "I wish it was enough. It's... it's freakin' merciless," he croaked.

Kurt placed a hand upon Dave's arm. "Hey, c'mon," he implored him. "You're stronger than this, Dave. I took the abuse, so can you."

Dave's shoulders sagged at Kurt's misjudgment of his state of mind. "I'm not strong," he replied quietly.

Kurt refused to accept Dave's resignation. "Don't say that! You _are!_" he demanded.

Dave refused to accept it. "Let it go, Kurt!" he snapped. "I'm not like you!"

Kurt fell silent for a moment, considering Dave's reaction. Finally, he responded. "Are we really back here again?" he asked disappointedly.

Dave wasn't sure what point Kurt was trying to make. "Where?" he asked, his voice once again timid.

Kurt went on the offensive. "You retreating into denial. Me sat here encouraging you to stay strong and you giving up before you've even taken a few steps," he challenged. "You don't have that option any more, Dave!"

Dave was bewildered. That wasn't what he'd meant. He'd referred to Kurt's strength - nothing more than that. "I never said I...!" he spluttered.

Kurt didn't let him speak: he was too determined to make Dave stand up and accept his sexuality despite the resistance he'd meet from the public, as he knew there was no other option in the long term. "You can't run away from this any more!" he urged him animatedly. "You _have_ to stand up to all of this or you'll never make it!"

Dave fell silent once again, gazing at Kurt as he considered the point. A sudden realization came to him.

"You're right. I can't... I can't run away from this." he replied quietly but steadily. "I think I know what to do."

Kurt looked at Dave approvingly, but gently. "Good," he smiled, trying to offer him assurance. "You're making the right decision, you know."

Dave knew that Kurt hadn't figured out the decision he'd come to. If it had occurred to him, he probably would have fought Dave tooth and nail to change his mind. "I uh..." he gulped. "I guess we'll see."

Kurt and Dave sat together in silence for a moment. "Would you like me to stay a little while?" asked Kurt finally.

"No, it's okay," sighed Dave. "I've got a few things to sort out. You should probably go."

"Okay, Dave," nodded Kurt comfortingly. They made their way out of the bedroom, and down the stairs. "It's gonna be okay, you know," he added as they reached the foot of the staircase.

"Yeah... I know," nodded Dave. _I doubt you'll feel that way soon, Kurt._

They reached the front door. As Kurt opened it, he turned to Dave one last time. "Don't worry," he whispered gently, nodding. "You'll find peace with all of this soon enough."

_Peace?_ thought Dave. He looked at Kurt as though everything had fallen into place, and wrapped him up in a tight hug.

"Thanks," he whispered lovingly. "For everything."

Kurt was taken completely by surprise by Dave's sudden show of affection. "...You're... you're welcome, Dave," he stammered.

Dave pulled out of the hug and looked Kurt in the eye wearing a faint smile. "Goodbye, Kurt," he whispered tenderly.

Kurt was still slightly taken aback. "...Goodbye, Dave," he replied dazedly.

Dave nodded him on his way, still wearing the same slight smile, closed the door in his friend and made his way upstairs. He had a few things to sort out.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat at her computer, glaring at the Tumblr account which <em>still<em> hadn't been taken down. The morons who had created it had now added pictures of Dave with his hair sprayed pink. "God, that really needs gotten rid of," she grunted to herself. "What the hell's keeping them?"

She was distracted by a sudden thump from Dave's room. It was enough to pique her curiosity, and she decided to investigate. Maybe Dave had fallen over, or knocked something off a shelf and needed a hand cleaning up.

She walked into his room and looked around. No sign of Dave. Where could he have gone? Nothing seemed out of place. Well, other than Dave's absence. He wasn't on the bed. Or by the window. Or stood near the clo...

_Dave. Dave's there._

_Dave's in the closet. Heh. Literally, in the..._

_Dave's in a noose._

_THE NOOSE._

_DAVE'S IN A-_

_DAVE_

_NO_

_**NO**_

Recounting the scene later, Rachel would swear she didn't make a sound. She did: the ear-splitting shriek could be heard from outside the house. She had no recollection of her dads entering the room and finding her in a state of hysteria, desperately trying to prop up Dave's suspended body.

Once they'd taken control of the situation, moving Rachel out of the way as they attempted to free Dave from the noose, the shock of it all forced Rachel's psyche to reinterpret the horror she had unwittingly become a part of.

_Why's everything moving so fast? I must have only been here for seconds. It feels like hours. Why isn't anything happening? It's all freeze frames. Snapshots._

_Of course. The publicity shots. Can't have a movie without those. But they're all black and white! Come on, that's so obvious. Yes, it's a horror movie, __**we get it**__. And why the hell is it all so blurry? God, is an __**intern**__ taking these shots? We'll be the laughing stock of the industry. Ugh. Maybe we can write it off as stylized._

_And the sound! Enough with the reverb and echo already. Can we have some subtlety here, please? I can barely hear anything. Someone needs to fire that post-production guy._

"_Rachel!"_

_Wait, I know that guy. How did he end up on the cast?_

"_Rachel!"_

_He's... wait. That... what?_

"_RACHEL!"_

_Dad?_

"Dad...?"

"The paramedics need you to fill in the blanks for them, sweetheart. How did you find him?"

Rachel had snapped back to reality, but still had no bearings to speak of. She tried to think. "He... I heard a bump," she started unsteadily. "I came into his room and... and I saw..." She couldn't say it. _Dave's body hanging from a noose in the closet._ It was too real. Too harrowing.

Hiram attempted to coax a few more details from her. "How long between the bump and finding him, sweetheart?" he asked soothingly.

"I... uh... I think it was about 30 seconds?" stammered Rachel hesitantly. "I... I don't remember what happened after that. Why don't I remember?" she whimpered, utterly perplexed.

"I think you went into shock, baby," explained Leroy gently. "Your daddy and I got him down, called 911 and started performing CPR on him. He's got a pulse, but he's not coming round. They're gonna have to take him to hospital."

"I'm going with him!" she demanded emotionally. "I have to know he's okay!"

"We want to come along too," explained Leroy to the paramedics administering to Dave's unconscious form. "The three of us."

"Are you family?" asked the paramedic.

"His family have all but disowned him," replied Leroy, trying to keep the heat out of his tone. "He's living with us now, but we're not his legal guardians at the moment."

"The parents need to be notified," explained the paramedic.

"I'll call them... shit, I don't have their number!" blurted Leroy. "Hiram?"

"Oh god, we were supposed to do that," groaned Hiram.

Rachel had an idea. "Maybe they're on his phone?" she suggested hopefully, eager to make any kind of positive contribution.

"Good call, sweetheart," nodded Leroy, and picked up Dave's handset. He scrolled through the contacts and found "Dad". He called the number.

It rang twice and went to voicemail. _I swear to god, Karofsky, if you just hung up..._ Leroy waited for the message to play out and tried to explain the situation to a machine.

"Hi, this is Leroy Berry. Uh, your son's staying with us now, rather than the Hummels - we had a bedroom to offer him. Anyway, there's, uh, been an... incident. For whatever reason, your son has taken it upon himself to attempt suicide. We found him suspended from a noose this evening. Now, thankfully, as I leave this message, he's still alive, but I don't know if that might change. I urge you to get in contact with the hospital and fix this. He needs his family, and hearing your voice might just bring him round. You owe him that, at least. Thanks."

They headed to the hospital, Leroy and Hiram by car and Rachel in the ambulance with Dave.

Nobody had even noticed the five named envelopes he'd left on the bedroom cabinet.

* * *

><p>"Rachel?" asked Kurt in surprise. "It's like half ten in the evening. How come you're calling so late?"<p>

Rachel was barely holding it together as she called Kurt from the Ambulance. "Kurt, you have to get to the hospital quickly!" she beseeched tremulously.

Kurt immediately feared the worst. "Rachel, what's happened?" he pleaded. "Are your dads okay?"

"It's not them, it's Dave!" wailed Rachel. "Kurt, he... oh god, Kurt..."

Kurt swiftly rethought what the worst could be. What had happened to Dave? "Has he been beaten up?" he asked nervously.

"No," replied Rachel, barely able to speak the words. "He... he tried to..." It was no use. She couldn't articulate the... this _thing_ he'd tried to do to himself.

Kurt found himself once again recalculating the worst possible thing. _He tried to...?_

_No. Oh, __**no**__..._

"Rachel. Is he still alive?" Kurt desperately tried to steady his tone to ensure he wasn't misunderstood.

"He... he's unconscious," she burbled. "They... they couldn't awaken him, that's why they're taking him to hospital."

Kurt was crying before he'd even realized. "I'm on my way," he assured her. "Stay with him," he insisted, almost choking on the words. "I'll be there as quick as I can."

Kurt bolted from his room, grabbed his coat from the rack and and flung it on, practically as a single motion. Burt noticed his frenzied state and drew his attention. "Kurt, what's happened?" he asked.

"It's Dave, dad," he explained shakily. "He... he's in hospital. I think he..." The dam broke. "I think he tried to commit suicide," he sobbed.

Burt was aghast. "Oh no," he gasped. "Jesus, that poor kid." The word _kid_ struck him. "He's... my god, he's just a _boy_," he whispered, the horror of Dave's desperation sinking in slowly.

"I'm going to the hospital to sit with Rachel and find out what happened," explained Kurt shakily. "She's on her way in the ambulance with Dave."

Burt's thoughts immediately shifted to Kurt driving in a state of distress. "You gonna be okay driving there?" he challenged gently. "You're in a hell of a state, son."

"I'll be okay," replied Kurt, reining in his angst. "I can hold it together for the journey."

Burt looked at his son with a peculiar blend of emotions: pride at his inner strength, and deep concern over his pain. "C'mere, son," he pleaded, reaching out his arms to Kurt.

Kurt felt the flood rising within him, and ran into Burt's arms. Burt wrapped him up in a protective hug, and Kurt broke down in tears. "I don't want him to die, dad!" he wailed inconsolably. "If... if he dies, I... it means I couldn't save him! I have to save him, dad!"

Burt held him tightly. "You can only do so much, Kurt," he assured him. "You're being as good a friend to him as you can. Don't beat yourself up over this."

"He's got to pull through, dad," he sobbed. "He has to."

* * *

><p>The moment Rachel spotted Kurt heading toward her, she leaped out of her seat, ran toward him and threw herself into his arms. He could see she'd been crying, and being with Kurt brought on the waterworks once again. They held each other for a while and wept quietly over the pain Dave had to have gone through.<p>

"Why didn't I see this?" asked Rachel, once they'd sat down together.

"None of us did, Rachel," replied Kurt reassuringly. "We all missed this."

"But I was the last one to see him!" countered Rachel. "Oh god, am I that self-obsessed? I should have seen it!"

Kurt fixed her with a steely gaze. "Don't you _dare_ blame yourself for this!" he snapped. "He... he was in the closet for _years_, you don't do that without learning how to hide the way you feel. You didn't stand any chance of seeing how he felt. And you sure as hell didn't do this to him, Rachel!" he insisted. "It was _them_."

"But we all knew how fragile he was!" rebuked Rachel. "We should have been watching for this! _I_ should have been. I was too wrapped up in Glee Club and my own personal dramas to even _try_ to notice what he was going through," she lamented.

Kurt realized there was no talking Rachel out of her self-appointed blame for now, and changed the topic. "I just hope he recovers," he sighed. "I don't want to lose him without even having had the chance to say goodb..." A memory of his last conversation flashed across his mind, and left him speechless.

_Goodbye, Kurt._

Kurt felt his stomach drop. "Oh god... I think it was me," he choked.

Rachel was blindsided by Kurt's revelation. "What?" she asked.

Kurt struggled not to cry as he explained. "The... the last time we spoke," he choked, "I... I told him that if I could handle the abuse, then so could he! But they never did anything like this to me. This... this was _barbaric_," he gulped. "And I didn't even support him, I... no, it's... it's _worse_ than that, I think I... oh god, I think I talked him _into_ it."

Rachel was unconvinced, and made no bones about saying so. "That's ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "How?"

Kurt's tears would stay back no longer. "I told him that... that if he didn't stand up to it all he'd never make it," he sobbed. "He said he knew what to do and I told him he was making the right decision..." He paused briefly in recollection, and found himself horrified by the memory. "Oh god, he made the decision while I was sitting _right there_ with him," he croaked.

Rachel saw Kurt piling the guilt upon himself, and tried urgently to stop him. "You didn't know, Kurt!" she insisted.

"It gets _worse_," bawled Kurt. "I told him it'd be okay and that he... he'd f... find peace soon. He... he must have thought I was giving him my _blessing_ to go through with it!" Kurt's shoulder shook violently from the sobbing. "Rachel, he said _goodbye_ to me!" he howled wretchedly.

Rachel could hardly bear to see her friend in such misery and, just as Burt had done, threw her arms around him to comfort him.

"We are _horrible_ friends!" wailed Kurt. "I may as well have put the noose around his neck myself!"

Rachel couldn't bear to hear such self-recriminations. "Don't you _dare_ say that!" she barked hoarsely as she, too, began to cry once more. "You've been there for him this whole week! You can't crucify yourself over a single misstep, Kurt. You couldn't have known his state of mind."

"We have to be better friends to him than this," insisted Kurt, still in floods of tears. "We have to. For him."

Rachel held him tighter. "We will, Kurt," she proclaimed insistently. "We will."

They sat together, holding one another, both of them sharing their hurt with each other. It took a while for them to cry it out, but they still hadn't heard any word on Dave's condition. Kurt called his dad to let him know he was staying at the hospital to be there for Dave when he regained consciousness.

He couldn't let Dave down again.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I don't know what possessed me to go down this route. Perhaps it has to get this bad before it can get better. Rest assured, this isn't the end - I've got over 10 chapters set up in total for this story._

_I'm torn between holding back on spoilers and explaining what'll happen next. :/_

_Incidentally, I did my research on the suicide attempt: _http:/ /writersforensicsblog .wordpress .com/2011/03/31/question-and-answer-what-happens-when-someone-is-hanged/

_I guess that makes me slightly less of a hack. :/_

_As ever, reviews = encouragement + love + guidance to make me better at this stuff. But after this chapter, feel absolutely entitled to scream at me._

_-Liam_


	6. Mile After Mile Of Just Empty Pages

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters or anything. Considering how Santana's abuela reacted when she came out, though, it looks like I get quite close to the mark sometimes. I wonder if Ryan would hire me for season 4 or a Kurtofsky spinoff? Hmmmm._

_**A/N:** This chapter would have been an addendum to chapter 5, like Chapter 5a or something, as it's set aside entirely to cover the contents of the envelopes on Dave's bedside cabinet, as mentioned in chapter 5. They were, as you've probably guessed, suicide notes - his last goodbyes to the people he most wanted to say goodbye to, for whatever reasons. I feel it's a good insight into Dave's state of mind, and adds something to the story._

_You might want to skip ahead to Chapter 7 and come back to this once you've read it. From the reviews I got, you're all getting a bit frantic about the state I left Dave in._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter "6": Mile After Mile Of Just Empty Pages<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Kurt<strong>**:**

Hi Kurt.

I'm not totally sure, but I think you get why I'm doing this.

Like you said, if I can't take it all on it'll destroy me. Well, I'm pretty much destroyed already, even if I don't show it - being shunned and picked on for the rest of the year is more than I can bear, especially when I seem to be the object of this much hatred. We may have slushied you, and I may have shoved you into the lockers now and then, and there was that threat against your life - emptiest threat in the world, as you must know by now - but I never resorted to cyberbullying. Surprising how paralyzing a few words on a screen can be. That felt colder than the slushies.

And the thing they did to the mannequin was brutal. It's as if they were doing it to me. The tutu and the tiara were just window dressing, just regular homophobic bullshit, but putting my letterman on it and suspending it from a noose?

I get the message.

After being snubbed by the friends I knew, dropped from the team I used to play for, picked on pretty much daily and losing my family, I agree with it too.

There's just not enough left to fight for.

I hope you don't miss me too much. You have a supportive family, good friends and a boyfriend to get you through the next few weeks. They'll be there for you.

Goodbye Kurt. Be happy, and don't ever let anyone stop you being the amazing, powerful, courageous person you've always been.

All my love,

Sassy Gay Dave

xxx

* * *

><p><strong>The<strong>** Berry family:**

Hi guys,

I hate that I'm doing this to you here, in your own home, but I just can't bear it any more.

I appreciate all you've done for me, and at least I had the privilege of seeing that some gay couples do actually make it.

Hiram/Leroy: you make a fantastic couple, and you and Rachel are a wonderful loving family. You should be immensely proud of yourselves.

Rachel: you have two incredible parents. I see how they treat you, and I know they'll always support you, no matter what. It's a precious thing - don't ever take that for granted, okay?

I'm sorry I'm hurting you all like this, and I know you've tried hard to give me enough nurture and care to see me through all of this pain, but it's not enough. That's my failure, not yours. You could never have helped me through this, but that would have been true of any environment. The fact that you tried is more than enough.

I hope you understand how incredibly grateful I am that you tried.

Once again, I'm so, so sorry for the anguish this will cause you. I hope you recover from the shock sooner rather than later. Rachel, if it helps, just imagine this as payback for all the time I picked on Kurt, or slushied the Glee guys. I was a bully, and this is my karma. I'm no great loss.

Stay strong for each other,

Dave

* * *

><p><strong>Paul<strong>** & Helen Karofsky:**

Paul/Helen,

I'd open this letter with "Dear mom and dad", but how can I? It's clear to me that I've disappointed you for the last time and I don't get any more chances. Fine, I get the point.

I should point out, though, that it goes both ways.

You were the two people I looked to the most for guidance and comfort. I trusted you without question. I felt genuine remorse whenever I proved to be a letdown. The two of you were the most important people in the world to me, apart from Kurt Hummel - and that's only because I've stupidly fallen in love with him. Sorry if that turns your stomach.

Then you threw me out. It sent a whole slew of messages.

"We don't want you."

"You don't matter."

"You're not good enough."

"You're a constant letdown."

"You aren't someone we want in our lives."

"The world would be a better place without you."

Well, I guess I'm listening. Good job guiding me there. Or, more accurately, right here. To the end.

I'll never waste your time, lie to you or let you down ever again.

And I swear, if you even think of blaming Kurt for any of this... I will fucking haunt you both.

Goodbye,

Your ex-son Dave

* * *

><p><strong>Azimio<strong>**:**

Dude,

I hate that your issues got in the way of our friendship, but I get that you're only human. I know it takes time to get over this kind of stuff, and I wish I had the strength to fight until you did, cos I think you will someday, but I'm pretty much running on fumes.

Don't do anything stupid like avoiding the funeral. Everyone needs to grieve, and I want you there. Our friendship meant a lot, and I know that having the chance to say goodbye properly will help you move on.

Also, don't blame yourself for this. I hear you had nothing to do with the whole Davina thing on Facebook, and I can't see you pulling off something like painting 'fag' on my locker or spraying my hair pink.

Do me one big favor, though. Find out who put up that mannequin in school. Find out who, and then get a bunch of people together and beat the shit out of them. Or carve "fag" into their forehead or some shit like that. Your choice, dude.

Cos ultimately, it was that which pushed me over the edge.

I just can't handle this kind of hate any more. I wish I was as strong as Kurt. This kind of thing comes at him, it just bounces off or he just brushes it aside. He's amazing. And yeah, you were right.

I do have a thing for Kurt. If, by "thing" you mean "deep and powerful love that won't ever die until I do".

Wait, that's another thing you can do. Make sure Kurt's okay. He's brave, but he's not strong. Make sure no harm comes to him. Blaine I couldn't give a shit about, but I wanna go knowing Kurt's safe.

Sorry for rambling on so long. I guess I want to make sure everything's said.

Remember not to blame yourself. This wasn't you, I promise you.

Peace bro,

Dave

* * *

><p><strong>Coach<strong>** Beiste:**

Hi Coach,

I'm sorry for letting you down like this. I know how much you wanted me back on the team, and I wish I was resilient enough to make it through all the crap I'm being put through every day, but I'm just not that strong.

I hope this doesn't affect the rest of the team. I already wrote Azimio and begged him not to blame himself. Don't take any of this out on him, please - it'll be tough enough on him without you laying a guilt trip on him.

And he really isn't to blame. I get that.

I know Finn felt horrible about letting me down too - like really bad - so he's going to need a hand getting through this. Maybe suggest the team redouble their efforts as a way of paying tribute, or something? I don't know - I guess I'd like to know that my death would have some kind of positive impact on the world.

Good luck for the rest of the season, Coach. Even without me, I still say the team's pretty strong. And under your leadership, I'm sure they'll do well.

Goodbye,

Dave

* * *

><p><em>(AN: Hopefully, you've read Chapter 7 by now, otherwise I'm gonna get shouted at a lot. Spoiler: don't worry. Dave's not gonna die, I promise you. -Lemm)_


	7. I Choose This Mortal Life

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or the characters or anything. Given the angstfest this story's been so far, maybe that's for the best. Ho hum._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: I Choose This Mortal Life<strong>

It had been an evening Hiram and Leroy would have been quite happy to forget. As a reassuring example of how things could turn out okay in the end, they felt they'd failed Dave completely. Rachel had stayed with Kurt to keep him company, and Kurt had assured them both that he'd drop her home whenever she wished to go.

"This has been a horrible night," sighed Leroy, "for all three of 'em."

"I just wish I didn't feel so powerless," uttered Hiram hoarsely. "Parents are supposed to take the reins in this kind of situation, and I... I just..."

Leroy pulled Hiram into a hug. "We've done everything we can for now," he reassured him. "All we can do now is wait and hope for good news."

"God, even knowing _why_ would help," sighed Hiram.

Leroy paused. "You don't think he...?" he started.

Hiram saw his point. "A suicide note?" he ventured, the phrase leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth as he made his way up to Dave's room. Leroy followed him.

"If it helps us understand," shrugged Leroy. "I mean, was it just the bullying?"

"Just?" blurted Hiram as he entered Dave's room. "Leroy, it's been non-stop all week from what Rachel told us."

"No, I mean... what if there were other factors?" explained Leroy. Hiram stopped in his tracks as he saw the envelopes on the bedside cabinet. He suddenly dreaded what they might contain.

They. More than one? "Surely not one for each of us?" asked Leroy in confusion. Hiram steeled himself and picked up the envelopes. They were all clearly marked: The Berry family. Coach Beiste. The Karofskys. Z. Fancy. All the people who mattered most to him. Even his parents? Hiram handed their envelope to Leroy: he just couldn't find it in himself to open it himself.

Leroy duly opened the envelope and started reading. He soon wished he hadn't: the whole thing was all apologies and praise. He assured them his surrender was all on him, and that even though they never could have seen him through it, he appreciated their attempts. His parting shot, directed to Rachel by way of easing her grief, was too much for Leroy.

"...just imagine this as payback for all the time I picked on Kurt, or slushied the Glee guys. I was a bully, and this is my karma. I'm no great loss."

_No great loss._ The notion that Dave felt so little about himself almost broke Leroy's heart. He remembered how little self esteem Hiram had before they'd become close, and seeing Dave in the same situation brought back the memories. He feared Hiram's reaction to the letter, but respected him too much to hold it from him. He handed it over.

Hiram only got as far as "I'm sorry I'm hurting you all like this" before he went to pieces in Leroy's arms.

* * *

><p>As it was, Kurt had talked Rachel into returning home sooner than she expected. "You've already dozed off twice," he insisted. "You should get some rest. If anything changes here, I'll let you know in the morning."<p>

Rachel looked glum. "I feel like I should be here for him," she sighed.

"One of us is plenty," replied Kurt. They both rose from their seats by Dave's bedside, Kurt reached over and kissed Dave on the forehead, and they left.

As luck would have it, Dave came to while Kurt was away. He took a moment to get his bearings and try to figure out what had happened. He figured it out swiftly enough.

He'd failed.

He turned on his side and wept into the pillow. The nurse on duty heard him, and tried to offer him some comfort and understanding.

"You don't want to be here, do you?" she asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't even want to _be_," sobbed Dave disconsolately.

"There's a reason you are, you know," she reminded him. "You're still alive because the people you're living with found you, and saved you, and still care about you."

"It's not enough," wept Dave. "I can't go on like this. It's killing me."

"At least give the ones who care about you a chance to help you through this," she pleaded. "There were two kids here earlier in tears over the thought of losing you."

Dave's tears stalled briefly as he tried to figure out who they could have been. "What did they look like?" he asked.

"A girl with dark hair, and a boy - he was a fair bit taller than her," noted the nurse.

_Rachel, for sure. And... Finn?_ He suddenly realized that word of this would eventually reach Kurt. How would he react now he'd shown he couldn't even kill himself properly? And how could he face Rachel again after trying to kill himself _in her own home_? The thoughts were like rocks in his stomach, and the tears started once again. "Please, ju... just go," he begged.

"Okay," replied the nurse gently. "You need rest. Try to get some sleep - things might just seem better in the morning."

Dave could only see things getting worse. He began to weep into his pillow once again, and cried himself to sleep.

Kurt was unlucky enough to return after Dave had fallen asleep; he noticed Dave's change in position and called the nurse, who explained that she'd already checked in on him, that he was fine but still in low spirits, and that right now, the best thing Kurt could do was to let him sleep. Kurt felt dreadful at deserting Dave and not being there when he'd opened his eyes.

But for now, Kurt decided, the nurse was probably right. He pulled a seat up to the edge of the bed and let Dave get some rest.

* * *

><p>Kurt was sitting by Dave's bedside. It was genuinely the last thing he expected to see when he awoke. "...Kurt?" he asked. "Kurt, why are you here?"<p>

Kurt had fallen asleep in the chair, and took a moment to awaken. "What...?" he mumbled drowsily, as he slowly remembered where he was. He looked at the boy nearby, and everything fell into focus. "Dave? _Dave!_" he yelped, grabbing Dave's hand tightly.

Too tightly - his nails dug into the flesh. "Ow! Kurt..." winced Dave in pain.

Kurt immediately let go. "Oh god, Dave, I'm sorry!" he squeaked. "Are you o...?" He paused just in time. "I was about to ask if you were okay," he noted miserably, "and you're so _far_ from that right now I can't even bear to think of it."

Dave felt awful. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he replied meekly. "If I'd done this properly we wouldn't even be here."

Kurt jolted upright. "Doing it properly means never doing _this_ in the first place, Dave!" he demanded.

Dave's head drooped. "I told you, Kurt, I'm not like you! I don't have your strength!" he insisted. "I can't do this like you!"

Kurt paused for a moment. "Then don't," he urged finally. "Do it like _you_."

Dave looked at Kurt in confusion, trying to understand but feeling just as lost as ever. Kurt continued. "You've got so much going for you, Dave," he explained. "You're smart. You're tough. You're sensitive... and god knows you're sassy," he smiled.

Dave's miserable expression endured throughout. "Scared. You forgot scared," he added.

Kurt looked Dave in the eye, considering a response. "You keep talking about how I'm braver than you, don't you?" he observed.

"You're out," stated Dave. "You _are_ braver."

Kurt decided to reveal something to Dave that he'd never dare tell anyone else - even Blaine. "It's an act, Dave," he sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Like so many things about me, it's a face I put on to shield myself. You were the only one who ever managed to dig beneath the surface. You saw my fear. And now I see yours," he added pointedly. "I mean, really _see_ it. Not the 'scared little boy' thing, I mean the terrified teen who's scared of the whole world because he thinks it's going to tear him to pieces."

The revelation was a surprise to Dave, but his end point overshadowed it. "That's the point, Kurt," he replied weakly. "It does. Every single day. Slushie facials, shoulder barges, the Davina thing, being _hung in fucking effigy_," he grunted, his jaw clenched. "_All_ of it... it's all so relentless."

Kurt decided to try jolting him out of his misery. "You know how they win?" he retorted. "You put that noose back around your neck and _swing_. They don't deserve to win. The world would be far too plain a place without you," he implored.

Dave wasn't keen on the option. "So... I should just live to spite them, you mean?" he asked, apprehensively.

"Just keep reminding yourself that they'll probably have _way_ less sex in their whole lives than you'll have in the next ten years," suggested Kurt, aiming straight for the libido. "Hell, maybe the next _five_. I dunno if anyone's ever told you, but you're kinda sexy." _C'mon, that's got to make an impact._

Not so much. "I... I can't even think of sex right now," admitted Dave feebly.

Kurt was taken aback by Dave's reaction, and was briefly lost for words. "Wait, I call you sexy and you don't even take the compliment?" he asked eventually. "I think that means, on at least one level, you're not even a teenage boy any more. I've half a mind to check for a functioning penis and testicles," he teased.

That did the trick. "Kurt, shut up!" he grunted, a vivid blush coloring his cheeks.

Kurt smiled. "Well, at least I've got the blood flowing _somewhere,_" he chirped. "And for the record, that wasn't me making plans to sneak a peek at your junk. I'd hate for you to end up being proven right on _that_ one," he snarked.

Dave offered up a half-smile. "It's okay, I know I'm not really that hot," he noted.

Kurt wasn't about to let Dave slide backward. "Hey! When I said that, I _meant_ it," he insisted.

"Bull," claimed Dave, shaking his head. "I'm a chubby guy who sweats too..."

"_Stop!_" yelped Kurt, appalled at the memory and just how powerfully it had stuck to Dave. Dave fell abruptly silent, but still looked miserable.

"God, Dave," gulped Kurt. "Have you been holding on to _that_ all this time?"

"You said it, Kurt," insisted Dave.

Kurt facepalmed, as much as the damage he'd done as the fact that Dave had taken it as gospel. "Dave, I was _lashing out!_" he pleaded desperately. "When I said that, I wanted to _hurt_ you. God, Dave... I hate that you ever believed it. You're not chubby. You're really not," he insisted. "And I have no idea if you sweat too much. What is that, anyway? What's too much?" he gesticulated, looking incredulous. "Seriously, I can't believe I came up with something so weak. And bald by 30? With your _dad's_ head of hair?" he observed.

Dave's expression, having brightened at Kurt's burial of the insult that had plagued him for so long, fell once again at the mention of his dad. Kurt only noticed a few seconds too late.

"Oh Dave," he spluttered, horrified. "I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned him."

Dave's sudden tension bled away, and he shrugged. "Forget it," he reassured Kurt. "He's not worth worrying about. He's had easily enough time to get in touch, and he hasn't even bothered."

Kurt was reluctant to allow Dave to turn his back on his parents, even though they'd done it to him. "Dave, he's..." he started. Then he stopped. What could he possibly say to this? What supportive comment about the Karofskys could he even come up with? "...ugh," he grunted finally, giving up on the idea. There was nothing. "Fuck it. I can't even summon up the enthusiasm to defend him," he sighed. "You're right, he hasn't even contacted you. Hell, you're _here_, after _that_, and he's still not dropped by."

Dave chimed in. "He's missed his chance. They both have," he intoned flatly. "If they care that little... no. They don't want me? They're not having me."

A disturbing possibility came to Kurt. "That doesn't mean you're going to... try again, does it, Dave?" he asked skittishly. Dave looked at him as though undecided, and it tore through Kurt's calm like an earthquake. "Dave?" he repeated, an urgent tone entering his voice.

Dave voiced his conscience. "I'm trying to find a way to go on," he gulped, "but it... god, Kurt. It all hurts so much. Everything they do to me... and everything I did to you. All of it."

Kurt was heartbroken. It wasn't just the insult in the locker room that was weighing Dave down, or the bullying. It was his own guilt at how he'd treated Kurt. "Dave, no!" he choked desperately, struggling not to cry. "I already told you, I forgive you!"

Dave looked utterly forlorn. "I know, but... I can't forgive myself for any of it! I never could," he croaked, on the verge of tears himself.

Kurt blinked his own tears away. "I... I can't make you do that," he replied hopelessly. "I don't know how." He gazed desolately at his red-eyed friend, who was staring ahead blankly, as though for some kind of answer which would always elude him.

Kurt had a thought. "There is one thing I can do, though," he asserted, straightening his posture suddenly.

"What's that?"

Kurt took Dave's hand. "I can beg you not to put me through this again," he proclaimed determinedly, looking Dave in the eye.

The plea blindsided Dave. "...What?" he gasped eventually.

Kurt pressed on. "When I thought I'd lost you tonight, I was _inconsolable_," he explained. "I thought you were dead, and I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye."

Dave retaliated with his own perspective. "But... but you _did_," he insisted. "You told me I'd be at peace and stuff."

Kurt was devastated. He'd guessed _right_, after all. "Oh _god_, that's what I was afraid of," he squeaked timorously, raising his hands to his mouth as he recoiled, the knot in his throat making it hard to speak at all. "I _never_ wanted you to kill yourself! I meant at peace with being out! I meant you'd get used to it, that you'd adapt!" he affirmed, his voice gaining strength as he pushed his point home, but pushing him ever closer to tears. "I don't want to lose you, Dave! I... I _can't_!" he cried, the tears finally rolling down his cheeks.

Dave found it hard to rein in his own emotions in the face of Kurt's outburst. "You... really want me around? That much?" he pleaded. He could barely bring himself to believe it was true.

"Not just me, Dave," gulped Kurt, composing himself slightly. "Rachel was out there with me in the corridor last night. She was in bits. The two of us were in each other's arms crying over what you did," he revealed. "We didn't want you to die, and we still don't."

A fresh wave of guilt crashed over Dave, and the tears started falling despite his best efforts. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he murmured wretchedly. "I... I never meant to hurt anyone, I promise."

Kurt took Dave's hand once again. "I know," he hushed him. "Just remember, Dave. _Please_ remember," he begged. "You are _loved_."

The sentiment was more than Dave could bear, and he fell apart, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed silently. He took Kurt's hand between his own. "I'll try to remember that if... if it ever gets this bad again," he blubbed.

Kurt rose from his seat and placed his free hand upon Dave's jaw. "If it ever does, please, _please_ just tell me," he implored. "When I said the world would be far too plain a place without you, I meant that too," he nodded.

Dave's emotions stabilized under Kurt's show of affection. "I'll take your word for it, Kurt," he gulped.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "And if we lose that baritone," he huffed, "Rachel's gonna be _so pissed_." Dave's tears dried up completely as the point took him completely by surprise... until Kurt broke into a smile.

Dave shot a pretend skunk-eye at Kurt. "I knew it," he whined, playing along. "You only want me for the _voice_." A beat... and Dave matched Kurt's grin. The two of them smiled at each other, Kurt mostly out of relief that Dave had perked up and Dave because Kurt was smiling at him.

What other reason did he need, really?

The thought bore fruit. "I think I found a reason to stick around," proposed Dave.

"What's that?" asked Kurt, his curiosity piqued.

Dave held Kurt's line of vision. "Even if we're never together... if I die, I never get to see you smiling again," he explained. "That's worth living for."

Kurt let out a shuddering breath, the gratitude suffusing his being. "That works for me, Dave," he sighed. Their smiles remained resolutely in place, and a notion overtook Kurt. "For what it's worth," he observed, "you've got a pretty amazing smile yourself."

Dave's smile became a huge grin, and he blushed coyly.

Maybe throwing it all away was a rash decision after all.

* * *

><p>Kurt called Rachel not long after, and he could almost <em>feel<em> her relief over the phone. She immediately burst into a tirade about how _he'd better not think of ever doing this to us again_, and _how could he be so stupid_ and an assortment of other venting which Kurt knew to be just that: venting. She still cared about Dave, just as Kurt did - she was merely getting everything off her chest, and Kurt ended up being the hapless target.

Leroy heard Rachel's half of the phone call. He waited until she'd hung up. "I take it he's gonna pull through, sweetheart?" he smiled.

Rachel almost collapsed from the relief of it all. "He's fine, dad," she breathed. "He's gonna be okay." She paused. "Until I beat the _crap_ out of him for scaring us all like this," she snapped.

Hiram and Leroy exchanged a look. _We should show her the letter,_ they seemed to think in unison. "Sweetheart, I think it'd probably help you to know what his state of mind was when he did it," suggested Leroy.

Rachel looked at her dad quizzically. "Yeah, but I doubt that's gonna happ... wait," she paused. "Did he... oh god, is there a suicide note?"

"Five," sighed Hiram. "One was for us. The three of us. I think you should see it, sweetie."

Rachel's eyes widened in alarm. Her mind spun with arguments for and against looking at it, but if Dave addressed all three of them in it and her dads felt it was for the best... "Where is it?" she asked nervously.

Leroy fished it out from his pocket. "Right here, baby," he invited gently. "You don't have to read it if you don't want to, but the option's there, okay?" Rachel nodded, and took the letter to her room to read in private.

She found herself grateful for the privacy - the assurance that she was part of a wonderful loving family and the insistence that she should never take her parents for granted, along with his assertion that this was his karma for being a bully, left her in floods of tears. She'd had no idea Dave could write so beautifully, either - to her, he'd always been just a typical jock meathead. Clearly, she had to get to know Dave better.

At least she still had the opportunity to do it.

Once she'd cried it all out, she recalled her dads' comment that Dave had left... _five_ such notes? Who the hell were they for? Was one for Kurt? Maybe she should bring them to him? She figured he'd see him soon enough, anyway, as she wanted to see Dave and make sure he was okay. Well... okay in terms of one who recently tried to _take his own life_, at least.

She left her room and asked her dads for the other four notes. "If I pass them to Kurt, he'll be able to distribute them, or not, however he judges," she suggested. "Also, he might want to discuss with Dave whether he wants them handed out."

Hiram nodded. "Good idea, sweetie," he agreed. "Need a lift to the hospital?"

Rachel nodded. "Thanks, dad, that'd be great," she smiled. "I don't think Kurt would mind dropping me home again."

"Not so fast, sugar," refuted Leroy with a raised eyebrow. "You don't think we might wanna visit him too?"

Rachel raised a hand to her mouth in shock. "Oh god, dad, I'm sorry!" she blurted. "Yes! Yes, of course. I mean, seeing us all together, reassuring him that we've got his back and that we're there for him... I think he could do with that," she sighed, recalling the note.

They made their way to the hospital; Kurt was still there, and assured them Dave was in much better spirits and seemed unlikely to go through with a second attempt on his own life. The Berrys' relief was palpable, and their tension began to fade. Kurt brought them to Dave.

"Dave," he announced gently, "you've got visitors!" Dave sat up, apprehensive about who the visitors could be. His parents, finally? Z? Burt, Carole and Finn? He spotted them before the thought had occurred to him, and his apprehension turned to dread. _I tried to kill myself in their home. They were gonna be so mad at..._

Rachel rushed to him and threw her arms around him. _Uh... or maybe not?_ "Thank god you're okay!" squealed Rachel. She backed out of the hug and stared at him intently. "You are _not_ a bully any more, and I don't ever want you to think that way about yourself again!" she admonished him.

_What...? Oh. The letter. Oh no._ Dave had no idea what to say. They'd seen the suicide note he'd left them. "You... you read that?" he asked timidly.

"It was beautiful, David," she sighed. "The bully thing was totally wrong, as was '_no great loss_'," she grunted, slapping Dave on the arm, "but the rest was so heartfelt and... so articulate. I never expected that," she admitted.

Dave was speechless. She wasn't even angry. She was _praising_ his suicide note. _What in the fuck...? Berry, you're fuckin' weird beyond the telling._ "Uh... thanks, I guess," ventured Dave uncertainly.

Leroy chimed in. "I'm sorry we haven't been more supportive, Dave," he sighed. "We had no idea how much you were going through. We should have been giving you more attention."

"Whoa, whoa, hold it there," urged Dave. "I've spent a lot of time in the closet, I've learned to hide my feelings _well_. I lock that stuff down hard, and nobody sees it if I'm determined they're not going to. I was all over the place on Thursday, I just didn't want to confront any of it or deal with it all. It's all my fault I ended up in such a horrible place, so don't go blaming yourselves," he insisted.

Hiram was troubled by the admission. What if he hid more stuff? "How will we ever know you're in that kind of misery again, Dave?" he asked. "How can we help when we don't know you need us to?"

"I'll tell you," assured Dave. "From now on, I promise, no more secrecy, no more hiding."

The Berrys all looked hugely relieved at this, and they all reached out to him - Rachel hugging him once again, Leroy and Hiram each taking a hand and squeezing it. Kurt lurked in the background, keen to avoid ruining the moment. As Rachel hugged Dave, however, four envelopes fell to the ground. Kurt moved forward to pick them up, and noticed the names on them.

One of them was addressed, very simply, to... _Fancy_. He recognized the handwriting. His face said it all, and the others only noticed too late what he'd picked up.

It took Dave a moment, and everyone's expressions, to realize something had changed. Something big. "Guys, what's up?" he asked.

Kurt spoke up first. "Dave, is this what I think it is?" he asked tremulously.

Dave felt the blood drain from his face. "Oh god, the letters," he rasped in horror.

Kurt stared at it like it might burst into flame without warning. "I don't know whether I should open this or not," he gulped.

Dave could see only one way out. "Now you know it exists, you'll always wonder what it said," he sighed to Kurt. "I guess you should read it. Maybe in private?" he added hopefully.

Rachel placed an arms across Kurt's shoulders in solidarity. "If it's as well-written as the one he wrote us, you're in for a heart-wrenching masterpiece," she sighed. "Want me there with you while you go through it?" she volunteered.

"We could give you three a little time, if you want," offered Hiram. "Leroy, you wanna pop down to the cafeteria with me?" Leroy nodded; the three probably needed to share a moment.

Once they were alone, Kurt started reading. He didn't find the phrasing and eloquence as shocking as Rachel, simply because he was already familiar with Dave's secret brilliance in the area, but the sentiments within would have been devastating to him had he not talked things out with him already.

His description of the threat to kill Kurt as the "emptiest threat in the world". His description of himself as "pretty much destroyed". His assertion that he took the suspension of the mannequin from the noose as a message. The reminder that Kurt had people all around him to get him through his grief over the next few weeks... and his description of Kurt as "the amazing, powerful, courageous person you've always been".

The parting shot was the sucker punch, though. Signing off not just with "All my love", but as "Sassy Gay Dave" made Kurt realize just how much he cared for his friend. He really _liked_ Sassy Gay Dave, as he would invariably end up referring to him in private.

Dave mattered to him.

Almost like... well, like a brother, but closer than Finn. _Yes. That's it - we're like siblings._ Kurt liked that thought.

He returned to Dave's bedside and hugged him warmly. "Rachel was right. It was beautiful, Dave," he breathed. "And I'm glad we've put most of the issues in it behind you. As for the rest? The things you've lost?"

Dave raised an eyebrow.

Kurt continued. "The friends? You've gained new ones - ones who accept you for who you really are. Losing your family? You've got a new one in the Berrys," he noted, nodding toward Rachel, who beamed at the recognition. "Losing your team? New Directions are your team now, and we're all behind you."

Dave considered each point, and admitted to himself it was a reasonable balance. Glee club was hardly the Titans, but they seemed a tight enough bunch when they pulled together. The camaraderie was the same, just a different flavor. The family... hell, the family were probably _better_, but he couldn't help but miss his parents. For all his bluster about shunning them, he hoped they missed him just as much and wanted him to return. The friends...? He had Kurt, Rachel, maybe Mercedes... it'd be nice to think he could count on everyone in glee club, but he couldn't be sure yet.

Still, at least they accepted him as he was. The jocks had never really known him, and what did they have anyway? Playing sports and video games and getting drunk? It was pretty shallow. They never really talked about stuff - well, except about chicks, and that wasn't really a topic Dave could engage in.

He just had to put up with the bullying. Kurt did it. The entire glee club did it. He'd have to learn to do it too. His expression betrayed his hesitance.

"What's on your mind?" asked Kurt, concerned.

Dave sighed. "I'm gonna have to toughen up," he declared.

_They could do worse than this to him. He's gonna have to toughen up._ Kurt was struck by the memory of Blaine's analysis. Here was Dave, saying pretty much the same thing. Maybe Blaine had a point after all.

"We'll be there for you to lean on," assured Kurt. An idea occurred to him, but he thought it best to discuss it with Rachel out of earshot of Dave. It'd be sure to help, but it'd have more impact if Dave wasn't expecting it.

And right now, there was no way he was expecting what Kurt had in mind.

Meanwhile, in the cafeteria, Hiram and Leroy had been discussing the events of the previous evening.

"The image of that boy with a noose around his neck will haunt me until my dying day," sighed Hiram.

"Naturally," shrugged Leroy sympathetically. "He almost _died_, right there."

"You know what the worst of this is? If he had died, he would have just been another _statistic_," bristled Hiram. "Yet another in a long line of gay kids who killed themselves, and he's _not_. He's way more than that. He's so much more."

"Might help him to hear that from us and his friends a little more often," noted Leroy. "You saw what he wrote. 'No great loss', he said."

"Would it even help?" sighed Hiram miserably. "I honestly don't know if we can make a dent here."

Leroy gaped at his partner in amazement. "Seriously?" he quizzed. "We're the best role models he could hope for! A stable long term gay couple, with a _daughter_," he added.

Hiram wasn't convinced. "And look how that's helped," he gesticulated. "He moves in with us, and less than a week later he attempts suicide!"

Leroy shook his head in disagreement. Hiram wasn't seeing the full picture. "There's a hell of a lot more to this than us!" he refuted. "He said so himself! From what Rachel's shared with me, he's been taking all kinds of punishment from the other kids. Slamming him into the lockers, calling him names... they even set up a fake Facebook account to taunt him!" he explained. "And on the Friday, Kurt told me he saw a mannequin hanging from the ceiling with _Dave's letterman_ on it."

Hiram's jaw dropped in horror. "How else was he gonna react?" continued Leroy. "He probably thought it was easier to jump before they pushed him."

"Jesus," droned Hiram, bewildered by the revelation. "They made a likeness of him and _lynched_ it?"

"Makes your blood run cold, doesn't it?" observed Leroy.

"Makes my blood fucking _boil_, Leroy!" snarled Hiram. "Those little bastards have to pay for this!"

"Good luck with that," shrugged Leroy with a sigh. "Apparently, the footage from the security cameras only shows a bunch of guys in ski masks."

Hiram couldn't bear the idea that the culprits might evade justice. "They don't have _any_ leads? Witnesses, anything?" he asked desperately.

"Nothing," replied Leroy, shaking his head sadly. "As I understand it, Kurt Hummel pulled off the jacket, tiara and tutu so nobody else saw."

The added details were fresh fuel to Hiram's anger. "Tutu? A fucking _tutu?_" he growled.

"Pretty sick, isn't it?" grunted Leroy.

Hiram briefly lost his cool. "It's a fucking _hate crime_, Leroy!" he barked. A few other people in the cafeteria turned and looked at the couple, wondering what the outburst was about. Hiram tried to rein in his temper to avoid further scrutiny.

"Hey, I'm the choir here, hon!" hissed Leroy once interest had died down. "Preach to someone else."

"I'm taking this up with Figgins," muttered Hiram angrily. "He has to do something!"

"Good luck with that, too," replied Leroy sardonically. "From what I remember, they didn't stop Dave when _he_ was bullying - one of the other students took matters into her own hands to make him stop. And this time they don't know who the perpetrator is," he added pointedly.

"He'd better come up with something," insisted Hiram. "This can't go on."

* * *

><p>Dave's spirits had drooped once again - not out of misery, but because he was mind-numbingly <em>bored<em>. He was being kept in for observation, something about the first 24 hours or something. He wasn't being released until the evening, and he had nothing to keep him occupied. Rachel had promised to bring him his iPod to keep him from going nuts.

She was taking her sweet time about it, that was for sure. He'd been sat there for a few hours, just waiting for Rachel, or Kurt, or _someone_ to turn up.

He strained to hear some kind of noise out in the corridor. Was she here? Y'know, _finally_? There was definitely noise out there. It had to be her. He sat up and awaited her entrance... and was left slack-jawed by the arrival of the entire glee club collective. Even Mr Schue had turned up.

"I thought I'd invite some friends along," chirped Kurt merrily.

"Dude, I've heard some crazy ways of getting out of glee club before," grinned Puck, "but this one wins it for originality alone." Dave chuckled and shook his head.

"Noah!" barked Rachel. "That's totally inappropriate!"

"Chill, Rach, it's cool," grinned Dave. "In all honesty, I'd rather people just made light of it anyway, I'm more than happy to just put it behind me. That was... that was _stupid_," he guffawed. "Not doing that again."

"I should hope so," chirped Kurt. "We'd be _devastated_."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked incredulously.

Rachel was aghast. "Yes, really!" she dictated.

"Yeah, but that's just you and Kurt," countered Dave.

"It's not, David," assured Mr Schue. "It's all of us. The only thing Kurt or Rachel had to mention was that you were in hospital and we were all eager to come and see how you were, so you can imagine how determined we were to make an appearance and show our support for you when we found out how you got here."

Dave paused. "You're, uh... not gonna _sing_, are you?" he asked nervously.

Chuckles rippled around the room. "Don't worry," grinned Kurt. "Mr Schue was all gung ho about it, but we talked him down." Mr Schue, to his credit, smiled in the face of the defeat.

"Besides, the acoustics in here _suck_," joked Artie. Dave chuckled.

"I have to admit," confessed Blaine, "I was all on board with the idea of us singing to you, but I was overruled by everyone else. _Et tu, Kurt?_" he pleaded, raising a hand to his chest in an affectation of hurt feelings. Dave tried not to let it show how much it stung to see that Kurt and Blaine seemed to be getting on well again.

"Please," guffawed Santana. "He's just cheated death, we don't want to make him die of _embarrassment!_" Dave grinned at the sentiment. Once again, Rachel looked appalled, but Dave shrugged it off and signaled her to relax once again.

"So when are you due out of here?" asked Finn. "Bet you can't wait to get home."

An uncomfortable silence settled on the room like thick fog. Home? Did he mean home with the Berrys or the Karofskys? Even Dave found himself stuck on the thought. What if his parents asked him to come back? How would the Berrys take it? He didn't want to hurt their feelings, but at the same time... being back with his actual mum and dad...

Kurt saw Dave's sudden inner conflict and directed a death glare at Finn, who looked mystified. He had no idea what he'd done wrong. Why wasn't anybody talking? To everyone's surprise, Brittany was the one to break the silence in a way that only Brittany could. "Do you mean his real home or his gay one?" she asked, referring to the Berry household in a way that nobody else had even considered.

It was so out there Dave couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. "I... I dunno, Brittany," he sighed finally.

Rachel tried to ease things along. "If your parents want to take you back, and you want to go, you should," she insisted. "Ultimately, we just want to see you happy. All of us do," she gesticulated to the group.

Dave was stunned by the affirmation. "What? All of you?" he stammered.

"All of us, Davey," assured Mercedes. "Any bullying that comes your way, you just come to us, okay?"

Dave smiled weakly to everyone and nodded, trying to maintain his composure. Another bloom of hope was threatening to make him unravel, and he fought it down.

"We're discussing the situation with Figgins, as well as Coach Beiste and Coach Sylvester," announced Mr Schue. "The bullying has gone far enough. It has to stop somewhere, and we're trying to arrange a plan to end it."

"Can't see that going well," sighed Dave sceptically.

"Don't write it off so fast, Dave," urged Mr Schue.

"No offense, Mr Schue," replied Dave, "but an end to bullying in McKinley? I'll believe it when I see it. They couldn't even stop me without Tana's help."

* * *

><p>Dave had fallen asleep in the absence of visitors, with only his iPod to keep him occupied. It had been a few hours, and the rest had helped calm his mind - which was just as well.<p>

Because he'd just been woken by two people he hadn't expected.

His parents, Paul and Helen. The _strangers_, Mr and Mrs Karofsky. The _enemies_.

Or maybe not.

They were looking at him with concern. He didn't yet dare hope it was affection. "Hello, sweetheart," greeted Helen softly.

Dave felt a lump in his throat. He hadn't expected that. "Hi mom," he gulped.

Helen took his hand in hers. "Thank god you're okay," she breathed with relief.

Dave shrugged. "Getting there, I guess," he sighed.

"Oh David," sighed Paul, his face etched with concern. "Why would you ever think this was the right thing to do?"

"It was never about this being right, dad," sighed Dave miserably. "I just got to a point where I couldn't face the world any more. It seemed like the only thing left."

Paul shook his head in confusion. "It's not like you to run away, David," he insisted, mostly to try to convince himself he hadn't misread his own son so badly for so long.

"It's exactly like me," countered Dave determinedly. "Do you even remember what I said? Why I couldn't tell you I was gay? I was right to be scared - everything I was afraid of ended up happening. The bullying. The ostracism. Being _kicked out_," he added pointedly. "A whole bunch of stuff to send me running into a noose because I think it's the only way out."

"We all make mistakes, David," assured Paul. Dave regarded him. _Are you talking about yourself, or me?_ he wondered.

"We're here for you now," urged Helen. "We don't want you to have to go through this alone."

"I'm not alone," insisted Dave. "I have new friends. I have glee club. And the Berrys are being good to me."

Paul bridled at the mention of the family currently housing his son. "Are they?" he challenged. "You attempted suicide on their watch!"

Dave felt himself seething within at the criticism. "No. I won't let you blame them for this," he demanded. "I hid my sexuality from you for at least two years. Hell, I only stopped hiding it from _myself_ a few weeks before prom. I'm good at hiding stuff. It's no wonder they didn't see how upset I was. I didn't _let_ them." He hesitated for a second, and decided to bring up a point he'd never mentioned to anyone. "You wanna talk about how many times I considered it while I was under _your_ roof?" he taunted.

Helen's hands flew to her mouth in horror. Dave immediately regretted the barb: it was largely aimed at Paul. Even he seemed slightly shaken "David, please, you're upsetting your mother," he pleaded.

_Not just her, huh, dad? I guess he really does care,_ considered Dave.

"Sorry, dad," retreated Dave. "I'm just saying, it's not fair to blame them. It's not fair to blame anyone but me." He paused in thought. "I guess it's just another letdown, isn't it?" he sighed.

Helen resisted Dave's self-recrimination. "You're not a letdown, sweetheart," she insisted supportively.

Dave was incredulous. "_Really_?" he guffawed.

"Yes, _really_," asserted Helen. "You were never a letdown. I just wanted you to share your problems with us. It's actually a relief to know that's all it ever was."

"You could have found a better way to deal with it, though, son," sighed Paul.

Dave shook his head in dismay. "Dad, you don't get it," he countered. "I was terrified of anyone finding out because all I could see were consequences. I did want to tell you, remember," he noted, trying to jog their memories of the night he was told to leave. "Didn't you have any idea? No giveaway signs, at all?"

After a moment or two, Helen nodded. "I had a feeling you were, but I couldn't just ask you. If I'd been wrong, it probably would have just made you even more hostile."

Dave regarded his mother affectionately. "Oh, mom," he sighed wistfully. "I never would have been hostile to you. Probably would have laughed it off, or... something. I hope."

"Well, it's past history now," proclaimed Paul. "We need to put this behind us. We're willing to let you return home."

Dave paused. _Willing? That's not exactly a warm welcome. _"How d'you mean, _willing_?" he queried.

"I mean we forgive you, and we'll let you come back," explained Paul.

_Forgive me? The fuck?_ "Forgive me?" asked Dave, stunned.

"Yes," nodded Paul. "For everything."

Dave was dumbfounded. "Wow. Thanks," he drawled, before finally finding his voice. "So does that _everything_ include being outed, being bullied, trying to kill myself and basically going through _hell_ this past year? Cos, y'know, I'd like to be clear on that," he retaliated.

Paul was shocked by Dave's lack of gratitude. "That's not fair, David," he rebuked, an edge to his tone.

Dave's bitterness took over. "No, what's not fair is telling me you're _willing_ to _let me_ move back in. Like you don't want me there, but you'll _put up_ with it," he snarled. "And you won't help me come back, you'll leave me to do it under my own steam." He glared at his father. "If you don't want me there, at least have the balls to say so," he spat. In that moment, a choice formed within him. "No, actually, I'll save you the trouble," he growled. "I'll pick up the rest of my stuff when I get out of hospital. Wouldn't want you to have to go to all the _trouble_ of throwing it out."

Paul's shock gave way to anger. "Why are you being like this?" he snapped.

"Because in two sentences, you just made me feel like nothing more than excess baggage!" barked Dave.

"What more do you want?" shouted Paul furiously. "We came here because we care about you, David!"

Dave decided to land a killer blow. "Really?" he hissed. "_I_ came here because you didn't care _enough_."

It worked: Paul and Helen were speechless. It was a brutal thing to say, but being treated with apparent disregard by his father had reopened the wounds of their fateful parting of ways. "I can't even bear to be in the same room as you right now," continued Dave after a moment. "Just... just go. Please."

Helen was devastated. "David, please, don't..." she began tearfully.

"Mom... please," begged Dave. "I don't wanna argue about this. Please, don't fight me on this, just... please, just leave."

Paul shook his head in dismay and headed out. Helen lingered behind, visibly shaken. "I love you, David," she pleaded miserably.

Dave was surprised to find himself tearful. "I know, mom," he gulped. "And I'm sorry. But I can't go home when I don't feel welcome there."

Helen realized that Dave's mind was set. She nodded sadly, placed a hand gently upon his cheek, leaned over and kissed his forehead before heading out to follow Paul.

Kurt was on his way to see Dave once more, and recognized Paul heading toward him. Clearly he'd just visited Dave, but why did he look so indignant? His son was recovering from a suicide attempt. What _right_ did he have to look indignant?

"Mr Karofsky?" asked Kurt.

Paul tried to dispel his acrimony. "Kurt?" he replied. "You're here to see Dave, I take it?"

"I'm getting him through this as best I can," confirmed Kurt.

"He seems to have turned against us completely," huffed Paul.

Kurt considered Dave's apparent rejection of his parents. "He probably doesn't trust you," he suggested. "Give him time."

"Doesn't trust me?" gasped Paul. "Why wouldn't he?"

"You were the one person in the world he looked up to the most," suggested Kurt, "and you told him to leave. He probably feels betrayed. I know I would," shrugged Kurt.

"He's the one who lied to us," insisted Paul.

"That was probably the only lie he told you," assured Kurt. "He'd been planning on telling you for a while, but he felt sure you'd abandon him."

"You knew about this?" challenged Paul as Helen caught up to him.

"If you're wondering why I never told you either, it's simple: I don't out anyone," asserted Kurt boldly. "I don't agree with it, and I have nothing but contempt for those who do it. When I find out who did it to Dave," grunted Kurt, "they'd better run."

"You could have at least convinced him to tell us!" insisted Paul.

"I did!" explained Kurt. "The only thing stopping him from telling you is that he had nowhere to go if the worst happened. Which, as it turned out, it _did_ - which is why he ended up on our doorstep, soaking wet and inconsolable. Do you have _any_ idea what the past ten days have been like for him?" challenged Kurt.

Paul had to admit ignorance of Dave's personal situation. "No," he replied. "How's he been?"

"They wrote 'fag' on his locker in permanent marker," recounted Kurt. "They drummed him off the football team. His friends abandoned him. They started cyberbullying him. They sprayed his hair pink. And then there was the mannequin," he shuddered. "That was the killer blow. They dressed it up to look like him and suspended it from the ceiling by a noose."

Paul was aghast. Couldn't David have told him this? But then, why would he if there was so little trust left? "I wish I'd known," he drawled. Helen, too, was appalled. How could they do such things to her boy?

"Well, maybe this will give you the answers you need," offered Kurt, taking the letter from Dave to them out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. "He wrote you this thinking he'd never see you again," he explained. "Maybe it'll help you to explain his state of mind."

"A suicide note?" gasped Helen in horror.

"One of five," nodded Kurt. "He wrote me one, too. And Rachel. He has a gift for words, as well as numbers."

Helen smiled faintly. "He always did," she nodded, looking at Paul. He nodded sadly in return.

"At least he still does," affirmed Kurt, attempting to buoy their spirits.

"Thanks for this, Kurt," sighed Helen. "If he changes his mind, you'll let us know, won't you?"

"I'll try to talk him round," volunteered Kurt. "It'll take a while, though. When you abandoned him... he looked heartbroken," noted Kurt tremulously. "I've never seen him like that."

Paul sighed miserably. "He's in no frame of mind to listen to us," he lamented. "We can't fix this."

"You probably need time to get used to it yourself," observed Kurt. "Your son's gay. This is new, and maybe even a bit scary. You need time to adapt. Maybe by then his attitude will have changed a little," suggested Kurt hopefully.

"He's lucky to have a friend like you, Kurt," smiled Helen wistfully.

"He knows," smiled Kurt, reaching out to Helen. They hugged briefly, and he shook Paul's hand as they said their goodbyes.

He hoped the letter gave them something they could use.

* * *

><p><em>(AN:_ _if you skipped ahead, check out chapter 5a - er, 6 - to find out exactly what Dave wrote to the Berrys, Kurt, his parents, Azimio and Coach Beiste. Yep - there are two more letters to be delivered. That'll happen in the next chapter. -Lemm)_


	8. The Voices In The Streets You Love

**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: The Voices In The Streets You Love  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: None. O beta, where art thou?  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T (for language)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 9698 (including intro, but... holy crap, that's big)  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Dave's senior year starts falling apart at the seams when an anonymous interloper outs him when he's only one step away from coming out on his own. How will he cope? More importantly, how will everyone else?

A/N: Finally, I learn how to post a proper intro block at the start of the chapter. Derp.  
>Sorry this chapter's taken so long. Christmas has left me hardly any spare time, and I can't write as fast as some people *coughLucyToocough*. Hopefully, the chapter will have been worth the wait.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: The Voices In The Streets You Love<strong>

Azimio looked upset. Finn looked miserable. And they were both looking at Kurt.

It was honestly the last thing he'd expected to see upon returning home.

"They wouldn't let him in to see Dave," explained Finn. Kurt surveyed Azimio anew, noting the details. It was obvious.

He was wearing his letterman. _Obviously_ they weren't going to let him in; Dave had left specific instructions to turn away anyone wearing one. Perhaps he should have arranged an exception for Azimio; he looked pretty torn up about not being allowed in to see his erstwhile friend.

"Hummel, tell me something, for god's sake," pleaded Azimio.

"Don't worry," assured Kurt. "He'll be fine, and he's not about to pull something like this again. He could do with getting back on the team, though," he observed.

Azimio and Finn both looked awkward at the idea. They wanted him back on the team, but they just weren't ready to deal. "I know, I know, you're not ready yet," sighed Kurt.

Azimio hung his head. "I wanna be," he insisted. "I can't be any kinda friend to him while I got this to get over."

Kurt saw an opportunity. "Maybe I can help with that," he suggested. He went over the idea of one-on-one PFFLAG meetings, an offshoot of the idea he'd come up with while talking to Coach Beiste with Dave. They both agreed.

"I gotta be a good friend to Dave now," frowned Azimio. "He needs friends that'll accept him as he is."

"You'll get there," replied Kurt encouragingly. "You just need a little time, and a bit of guidance."

"Think we _can_ get over it?" asked Finn pessimistically.

Kurt held Finn's gaze. "I'm sure of it," he assured them both. "You're good guys. You wouldn't be so worried about Dave, or agreeing to this plan, if you weren't." The two jocks raised an eyebrow to each other and figured Kurt had a pretty good point. They were willing to try to change for a friend's sake. That showed caring, for sure.

"I'mma steer clear of DK until I know I'm ready," declared Azimio. "He needs me at my best, and that ain't me yet."

Kurt nodded. "He'll miss your friendship, you know," he observed. "He already does."

"Just let him know I don't hate him or anything dumb like that, okay?" pleaded Azimio.

"No problem," smiled Kurt. He suddenly remembered the note Dave had written him. "Here," he offered, fishing the envelope out of his jacket. "He wrote you this as kind of a goodbye, I suppose, so it may be something to spur you on. Might help knowing his state of mind, too. Answer some of the questions you might have, that kind of thing."

Azimio's jaw dropped as he started to understand what the envelope contained. "He wrote me a suicide note?" he whispered in shock.

"He wrote five," sighed Kurt. "One for me, one for the Berrys, one for Coach Beiste, one for you and... one for... for his parents," he stammered, suddenly dwelling on the potential contents of _that_ letter. "I can't imagine what he'd have wanted to say to them," he murmured.

"Nobody else?" gasped Azimio. "Shit, I didn't realize I was that important to him," he drawled in amazement. He paused. "He doesn't...? I mean, be... bein' close an' all," he faltered, struggling to put into words his concern that _Dave __might __have __a __crush __on __him_. It was an unsettling prospect.

"Don't worry," replied Kurt calmly. "I suspect the relationship between you two is less _bad __romance_, more _rad __bromance_," he smirked, his eyes twinkling.

Azimio shook his head and chuckled to himself. "This what the meetings are gonna be like?" he smirked.

"I promise not to make you sing any Lady Gaga," grinned Kurt impishly.

"It's really not that bad," shrugged Finn.

"Do _not_ make me call you Finnderella," guffawed Azimio. "I don't wanna go stoopin' to Strando's level."

"Never happen, dude," grinned Finn. "You're better than that."

_You both need to be better still, _mused Kurt. _And for Dave's sake, I'm determined to see that you are._

* * *

><p>Dave was back at the Berry house. The bedroom was exactly as he'd left it. Well, apart from fresh bedding, freshly baked cookies on the dresser, hot chocolate next to the cookies...<p>

_Way __to __overcompensate__, __guys__. __Still__, __I__'__m __not __gonna __complain __if __it __means __fresh __cookies__._ He tucked in. _Mmmm__, __pistachios__. __I __love __those__. __I __haven__'__t __had __pistachio __cookies __since __mom __made __up __a __batch __in __Sep__..._

His train of thought slammed on the brakes as he remembered he had to pick up all of his stuff. He'd panicked slightly when Kurt had told him he'd given his parents their letter. It was... unkind, to say the least. The visit was going to be fractious, to put it mildly.

He hoped it wouldn't end up being a screaming match.

"You okay, son?" asked Hiram as he looked in on Dave. He noticed the look on Dave's face and immediately feared the worst.

"I just remembered," sighed Dave. "I told my folks I'd be picking up the rest of my stuff. That's not gonna go well after they saw what I wrote them."

"Overdid it with the melodrama, huh?"

"I wish it was that simple. No, I went straight for cruelty."

Hiram was taken aback by this. "Cruelty?" he queried. "What exactly did you say to them?"

Dave sighed wearily. "God, I was so stupid," he grunted. "I more or less blamed them for pushing my head into the noose. I told them I'd _haunt_ them if they blamed Kurt for any of it. I signed it 'your ex-son'. I was horrible," he groaned.

Hiram put his arm across Dave's shoulders. "You were in a terrible place," he assured Dave. "They have to understand that. How were they when you last spoke to them?"

"I turned my back on them," grimaced Dave. "Mom didn't want to let me go, but... I dunno about dad. He looked like he'd just about lost patience with me. We argued."

"Is that why you refused to go home with them?"

"Pretty much. It just doesn't seem like home any more. This feels more like a home to me than... than their place."

"I'm sure he'll come around," assured Hiram gently. "He came to visit you. That's gotta be worth something."

_I'm not sure it's enough,_ thought Dave sadly.

* * *

><p>"I'm at my freakin' wits' end here. I beg you to come over."<p>

"I'll be there in ten. Don't go postal."

Dave had played nice. He'd gone along with things since he'd returned to the Berry household, but it was almost starting to feel suffocating. Rachel kept checking in on him, as if he was on suicide watch. Hiram and Leroy kept asking him how he was, and trying to lift his spirits. Rachel even offered to _sing_ to him several times. He was surprised they hadn't confiscated his shoelaces.

And now, not 10 minutes ago, she'd burst into song unprompted, and he'd had to practically _plead_ with her to stop. Enough was enough. He needed an island of calm in this ocean of cotton wool and eggshells. He needed Kurt.

The fact that he also really _wanted_ Kurt, too, was something he was trying to ignore for now.

Mercifully, Kurt didn't even take 10 minutes to get there. To Dave's surprise, he'd brought along Finn, too. "Hey," he smiled to a confused Rachel.

"Finn!" she chirped brightly, albeit somewhat bewilderedly. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Thought I'd surprise you," he grinned amiably.

"That's..." Rachel paused. "...awfully nice of you," she decided eventually.

"Mind if Dave and I head up to his room?" asked Kurt.

"Just so long as you leave the door open," insisted Hiram, ever the vigilant parent.

Kurt's eyes spun like a slot machine. "Actually, we could do with the privacy," he pleaded. "Don't worry, there's no danger of me making out with _not __my __boyfriend_," he added snippily, one eyebrow flipped upward.

Leroy couldn't help but chuckle. "You're a credit to gay men everywhere, Kurt," he grinned. Hiram batted him on the arm in reprimand. "What?" shrugged Leroy, still grinning. "I'm just standing up for monogamy boy over there!" Hiram harrumphed and shook his head as Dave and Kurt headed upstairs, grinning at the exchange. _You__'__re __incorrigible__, __Leroy__,_ thought Hiram.

Dave saw an opportunity. "Kinda weird he described you as, like, wooden there," he noted.

Kurt knew this. Oh, he knew it _so_ well. He played along, nonetheless. "No, that's _mahogany_," he emphasized. "He said _monogamy_."

"What, so he thinks you're repetitive and boring? Dude, that's harsh."

"No, that's _monotony_."

"What, like in black and white?"

"Monochrome."

"Aren't they the little coconut things?"

Kurt stifled a snicker. He would _not_ lose, dammit. "Macarón," he grunted, trying not to giggle.

"No, that's those little pasta tubes." Dave was already smirking.

"Macaroni," sighed Kurt. _C__'__mon__, __that __was __too __obvious__._

"No, that's the Japanese thing with the knots..."

"_Macrame_."

"Isn't that the... I dunno, some kind of fish?" Dave had already thought a few steps ahead and knew how to get Kurt to crease up. If he could _just_ hold it together...

"Mackerel!"

"Nah, that's the soft sugary stuff in candy bars."

"That's _caramel__!_"

"What? No, that's _you__._" Dave barely kept a straight face, and was looking Kurt in the eye. Kurt's eyes flew wide in surprise.

Then Kurt lost as he burst into uncontrollable laughter as the penny dropped. Dave, too, burst out laughing. He _loved_ playing this game with Kurt. Especially when he won.

"Really, Dave? _Really__?_" cackled Kurt incredulously. "You went from _caramel_ to _Kurt __Hummel_? That's a freakin' stretch!" he guffawed breathlessly.

"Oh, _c__'__mon__!_" chortled Dave. "After you went from _chop __socky_ to _Karofsky_ that time, you have _no_ grounds!"

"It was the best I could do!" giggled Kurt. "I'm not _made __of __words_ like you!"

The two boys sat together on the side of the bed for a while as their laughter subsided. "Oh man," breathed Dave finally. "Wow, I needed that."

"How bad's it been?" asked Kurt.

"Well," started Dave. "I get that they _mean_ well, and it's nice to know they care so much, but... ugh." He shook his head in dismay. "It's almost like they're scared I'm gonna try and off myself again. They're always checking up on me, or trying to perk me up, and I swear to god, Rachel suddenly _singing_ out of nowhere..." Dave facepalmed at the notion. "What the _fuck_, Rachel?"

"I have to know," grinned Kurt. "What did she sing?"

"Hush little baby," grunted Dave. "Seriously. _Hush __little __baby__, __don__'__t __say __a __word__..._" he sang in demonstration.

Kurt's laughter rang out anew. "That's _amazing__!_ Only Rachel," he chortled. "Only _ever_ Rachel!"

Dave began to see the funny side of it, but the idea of being subjected to it any longer was more than he could bear. "Like I said, I know it's from a place of caring," he shrugged, "but it's just so draining. And I can't be mad at them because, well... they're trying to be so _nice_. It's kinda driving me nuts."

Kurt nodded. "I imagine Rachel's the driving force, while daddy and daddy are just going along with it because they think she 'needs this' or something," he surmised. "Should I have a word?"

Dave's expression radiated relief. "Would you?" he pleaded. "Seriously, they're killing me here."

Not the best thing to say after a suicide attempt. Kurt looked appalled, Dave utterly shamefaced. "Oh god, I really have to _not_ say stuff like that," he winced.

Kurt offered up a weak smile. "It's okay, it's just a figure of speech," he conceded. "Even if the figure in question is a _scythe_," he noted facetiously.

Dave raised an eyebrow. "I'd have said it was more of a _noose_, personally," he retorted. Only a split second later did he notice he's skipped merrily across The Line, and cringed again.

"Dave...!" blurted Kurt, shocked.

"Sorry," retreated Dave. "I tend to take refuge in black humor."

"It's a coping mechanism, I guess," shrugged Kurt in concession. "So uh, yeah, I'll speak to the Berrys and try to get them to ease off a little," he volunteered.

"Really? Oh, Kurt, you're a lifesaver," sighed Dave. An awkward silence, a wince from Kurt, and the wrong side of The Line again somehow. "Oh god, I'm never gonna be able to use an expression like that ever again, am I?" groaned Dave.

Kurt chuckled. "Maybe not for a while, at least," he smiled. "Besides, I'd hardly describe myself as a... what was it?"

"Lifesaver."

"Didn't they duel with those in Star Wars?"

Dave paused, and quickly caught on. "No, that's a light saber," he smirked.

And so it began again. Kurt was determined to even the score.

Meanwhile, Finn had been talking things through with Rachel. He'd been brought along by Kurt precisely to keep her at bay so he and Dave could talk in private. He'd told Finn she'd gone _batshit __caring_, and he didn't doubt it for a moment. Rachel had always had a tendency to go overboard.

"I'm worried he's slipping backward," explained Rachel.

Finn smiled back at her. "I dunno," he observed. "If he was, he'd probably be locking it all down like he did before ...before _that_ happened." He couldn't quite bring himself to refer to the events of that fateful evening any other way. "Instead, he reached out to us."

"But why would he do that?" pleaded Rachel.

"He felt kinda smothered."

"He..." Rachel stopped. "He said that?" she asked finally, uncertain.

"Totally," confirmed Finn. "Did you actually _burst __into __song_?"

"I thought it'd raise his spirits," explained Rachel. "Instead, he practically bundled me out of the room and shut himself in!"

Finn shook his head and chuckled. "Rachel, the poor guy was probably _embarrassed_," he grinned. "People aren't normally inclined to just suddenly start singing without any prompt! You probably spooked the hell out of him," he chuckled.

"So he called out for backup," winced Rachel. "Oh, god, I've probably just made things worse!"

"I'm sure he'll understand in the end. It's just your way of showing you care, right?" shrugged Finn.

"Maybe I should find another way," sighed Rachel despondently. "You know, something that _actually __works_."

"Just try building up his confidence," suggested Finn. "That's probably all he needs."

Rachel was struck by an idea. "I might have just the thing," she smiled.

"Awesome," smiled Finn. "Also, don't tell him you're all _concerned_ for him or stuff like that, it'll probably just remind him of... what he... tried to do." Finn still had trouble getting his head around the fact that Dave had really, _totally __for __real__,_ tried to kill himself.

"Ugh," grimaced Rachel. "I've told him that so many times already. I have to stop. I just wanted him to know we all care."

"He knows," nodded Finn enthusiastically. "He's lucky to have people like Kurt and your family around. He really does appreciate you guys."

"He does?"

"He cares enough to write a note to say goodbye and explain why he can't go on. Out of _five__._ To me, that says you guys matter to him."

Rachel had never even considered _why_ Dave had written the note, and Finn's simple observation left her speechless. In retrospect, it was obvious. Of _course_ Dave cared. She threw her arms around Finn and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Finn reciprocated keenly, albeit with some confusion. "What's this for?" he asked, a note of confusion in his voice.

Rachel looked up into his eyes. "For pointing out the obvious to me," she cooed. "You're good at that."

Finn beamed at the compliment. "Any time, babe," he assured her softly.

* * *

><p>"Coach? Can I have a word?"<p>

Coach Bieste looked up. What was Kurt doing here? "Sure, kid, c'mon in, have a seat," she invited.

Kurt sat down facing the coach across her desk. "I don't know if word reached you over the weekend about Dave," he began nervously.

Beiste could immediately see there was something badly wrong. Whatever had happened, it was clearly bad news. "Was he beaten up?" she guessed anxiously.

"Nothing so simple," sighed Kurt. "He tried to hang himself."

The coach leaned back sharply, her mind reeling, tears suddenly stinging her eyes. One word seemed to stand out. "...Tried?" she asked, her voice thick. "Kurt, are you saying he's still alive?"

Kurt could have kicked himself. He should have started with _that_. "Yes! Yes, he's okay," he assured her hurriedly. "He's more or less recovered, apart from the marks on his neck, and he's unlikely to make a second attempt."

Beiste let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank god," she gasped. "I had no idea he was in such an awful place."

"None of us did," shrugged Kurt. "Not until it was too late. Well... _nearly_ too late."

"So... if he's gonna be okay," ventured Beiste, "why are you telling me at all?"

"Because people need to know that he was driven to this," explained Kurt vehemently. "That people are driven to acts like this. That people are bullied to this degree, and that it has to stop somewhere."

Beiste sighed and shook her head resignedly. "I hardly have the clout to change things around here on my own," she grumbled.

"How about you, Coach Sylvester and Principal Figgins?"

Beiste looked at Kurt as though he was discussing people he'd never met. Beiste and Sylvester? Working together? With Figgins? "I know it sounds ridiculous," admitted Kurt, "but hear me out."

"I'm all ears, kid," gasped Beiste. "Amaze me."

Kurt smirked knowingly and continued. "Coach Sylvester expelled Dave last year because of the way he bullied me," he explained. "Bullying seems to be her hot button topic. When Dave was reinstated as a student, she resigned to illustrate her outrage at the decision, and because she felt she could be of greater use in the halls to watch out for me."

"Holy crap," murmured Beiste. "I remember that. I took it to be part of some scheme of hers at the time."

"It wasn't," assured Kurt. "It was absolutely genuine. She meant it."

Beiste's mind was already starting to concoct a plan. "You think I should push her on that, force her hand?" she suggested.

"We've got nothing to lose," shrugged Kurt. "And if you two take the same point of view to Figgins, the three of you will have to create some kind of initiative. It'll be sure to happen."

Beiste smiled. "I like your thinking, kid," she nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

><p>Coach Sylvester was annoyed. Beiste had stormed into her office and flung a note on her desk, barking about how that Karofsky kid, or Muscle Mary as she'd taken to calling him since he was outed, had tried to off himself over the weekend.<p>

"He didn't write me one?" drawled Sue. "I'm hurt."

Beiste glared at her. "Why would he?" she snarled. "You expelled him."

Sue met Beiste's line of sight with an equally steely glare. "Of course I did," she snarled back. "He made a verbal threat to _kill __another __student_. And he maintained a campaign of physical violence all the while. Kurt was terrified of him," she recounted, her voice betraying a trace of emotion.

Beiste pounced on the point like a leopard. "And now Dave's terrified of every student here," she countered vociferously. "And what's the lynching of a mannequin dressed as Dave, if it's not tantamount to a threat on his life? What would you do, Sue?" she challenged. "Expel the _entire __student __body_?"

Sue found herself suddenly on the back foot. She _hated_ that pose. "It's not the same situation..." she began. She didn't get very far.

"It's _exactly_ the same situation!" barked Beiste. "Physical assaults, mockery, abuse, cyberbullying, the mannequin... hell, if anything, it's _worse__!_" she retorted. Sue found herself bothered by the logic. She couldn't fault it - the big gay bully... well, okay, _ex__-_bully - was clearly having a worse time than Kurt had. Kurt had never tried to kill himself.

At least, not that Sue knew of. Kurt was pretty resilient; she couldn't imagine him resorting to such a thing. The school's _other_ other gay, however...

"You need to be in on this," demanded Beiste, kicking Sue's train of thought off the tracks and down the embankment. "If you're not, you're as good as condoning every act of bullying at this school."

Sue was outraged at the accusation. Bullying was one thing she'd never condone. She'd seen how the kids had treated her sister when they were both young, and it had made her militant against bullying. Her temperament was often fueled by her frustration at not being able to stem the bullying at McKinley, and here was Beiste suggesting she _condoned_ it? "How _dare_ you!" she growled. No witty riposte, no sarcastic barb - just an outburst of pique.

At that point, Beiste knew she'd won the battle. Sue wanted in; all Beiste had to do was offer the invitation. "Prove me wrong, Sue," she challenged. "I'm gonna go talk to Figgins." She swept up Dave's note and strolled out of the office, leaving Sue to make the only decision she could.

She knew full well she wouldn't be able to resist the gauntlet being thrown down to her.

* * *

><p>Dave had stayed home under the pretense of recovering. Leroy and Hiram both allowed him that day's grace to steel himself for the return to school. Rachel had been delighted to hear about Kurt's attempt to dismantle the bully culture of McKinley, and hoped beyond hope that his efforts would bear fruit. Kurt didn't want to get Dave's hopes up, however, and asked Rachel to keep quiet about it for now.<p>

Instead, Rachel decided to take her mind off the issue by helping Dave in a different way. "Hey," she smiled, peeking into Dave's room.

"Hi Rachel," he sighed. "How was school?"

"Hardly anyone knew about Friday evening," she explained. "Quite a few saw the mannequin, but they didn't get the context without the clothing. There was a lot of talk about it, but not so much about you."

"Did they notice I was gone?"

"Some of the puckheads were jeering about driving a... gay person out of the school."

"They said _fag_, right?" sighed Dave.

Rachel sighed miserably. "They're morons," she noted dismissively. "They're also wrong."

"That's kinda what worries me," gulped Dave. "What's gonna happen tomorrow?"

"We're going to stand by you. All of us."

"Huh," guffawed Dave. "Size of me, it'll probably take all of you to surround me."

Rachel paused to consider Dave's self-deprecation. It was time to fix that. "You and I have something in common, you know," noted Rachel.

"Really?" asked Dave quizzically.

"Yeah," she nodded. "We both have issues about our... form."

"Form?" Dave wasn't _quite_ certain what she meant by that, but it couldn't be...

"We both have body issues," she huffed, annoyed at having to state the point so baldly.

Dave's expression betrayed his utter astonishment. Okay, so Rachel wasn't Beauty Pageant material, but she was still... well, basically _pretty_. And a reasonable shape. He had enough of an eye for aesthetics to recognize a decent figure when he saw it. "You?" he rebuked. "There's nothing wrong with you!"

"Oh, _please_!" retorted Rachel. "I have a nose that can be seen from _space_. And my boobs..." Her voice became quiet and timid. "They have the exact _opposite_ problem," she explained timidly, almost in a whisper.

Dave considered Rachel's bust. He caught himself thinking it was rude to stare at a chick's boobs, but then he remembered: _oh__, __right__. __Gay __dude__. __Probably __not __the __same__._ "I dunno," he shrugged. "They... well, y'know, I can _see_ them, it's not like you're flat-chested or anything."

"But they're... _small_," she replied meekly, still reticent to discuss them and yet still determined to open up about her issues to Dave in order to coax him into opening up about his own.

Dave guffawed. "I'd offer you a swap," he grunted.

Rachel saw her chance. "Oh, _come __on__,_" she insisted. "I know guys who'd _kill_ for a set of pecs like that."

Dave refused to believe her. "You're kidding, right?" he challenged. "I look like I've got boobs bigger than..." He held back. That wasn't helping Rachel. "Sorry," he pleaded hurriedly. "I... I didn't mean..."

Rachel raised a hand to his chest and hushed him. "It's okay, Dave," she smiled. She paused. "Look," she decided finally, "there's really only one way we're going to get over our issues. We need to be comfortable enough with our own bodies to disrobe in front of another person. I'm... willing to be that person for you," she volunteered, halting only briefly.

"Wait, what?" asked Dave, a sense of alarm growing inside of him.

"You need to strip in front of me," explained Rachel.

That wasn't going to happen.

"I need to _what_?" spluttered Dave. "That... what? I... I... _no__!_" The words all fought to leap out of his mouth at once. He couldn't voice this sentiment quick enough.

Rachel sought to calm his nerves. "It's okay, Dave," she replied soothingly. "It'll help, I promise you."

Dave wasn't having it. "No! No, just... holy shit, Rachel!" he babbled.

Rachel realized this wasn't getting her very far, and decided to offer a compromise. "Okay," she retreated. "How about, uh... you take your top off, and, and... and I'll... take... mine off too?" She struggled to get the words out. The idea of standing in front of anyone with only a bra covering her breasts was unsettling, but she was determined to make Dave relax a little about his body.

Dave could see the effort she was making, and admitted to himself that it was only fair to meet her halfway. And besides, it's just his top, right? His hairy... flabby... ugh. _Well__, __maybe __she __won__'__t __tell __anyone__. __Uh__..._

"We're not telling _anyone_ about this, right?" he insisted.

"Not a _soul_," urged Rachel. "People will think I'm even weirder than they do already."

Dave paused. He still had doubts. "Uh... you first," he mumbled.

Rachel sighed. "Fine," she grunted. She grabbed the hem of her top, and hesitated. Dave was looking directly at her.

"Could you... could you at least turn away while I'm taking it off?" she pleaded.

"Oh," blurted Dave. "Sure. Uh, sorry."

"No problem," sighed Rachel. Dave turned his back and Rachel, having steeled herself for the moment, pulled her top off. "I'm... I'm done," she squeaked, almost choking on the confirmation. Dave turned around.

He took a moment to evaluate her torso, and found only confusion. "I don't see where the problem is," he admitted, shaking his head a little.

"Are you kidding?" gasped Rachel. "These!" She pointed to her breasts. Dave looked at them. They didn't _seem_ particularly small.

"They look fine to me," he shrugged. "Granted, I'm no connoisseur, but..."

"You don't... think they're small?" ventured Rachel.

"I could, uh, demonstrate," suggested Dave. "Kinda. It'd mean touching you, though."

"Touching my... breasts?" spluttered Rachel. She briefly forgot Dave was gay. Dave was this big tough guy; it wasn't hard to do.

"Trust me, I'd rather be doing other things," he winced. The realization returned to her. _Of __course__. __He__'__s __gay__. __No __cheap __thrill __for __him__. __He__... __might __actually __find __it __**unpleasant**__ - __and __he__'__s __still __offering__. __Huh__._

"Okay," she nodded. "Go ahead. Prove me wrong."

Dave took a step closer to Rachel, braced himself slightly and cupped one of Rachel's breasts in his hand. He then nodded to it, directing Rachel's line of sight.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" she asked, uncertain.

"The way it fills my hand," noted Dave. "I'm no expert, but I'm guessing that's enough for most guys."

Rachel took a moment to consider this. She recalled every time Finn had ...taken an interest in them. He certainly hadn't seemed... _disappointed_, in fairness. Perhaps Dave had a point. "I hadn't thought of that," she mumbled, mostly to herself.

Dave smiled. He then hastily removed his hand from the uncomfortably intimate area of Rachel's anatomy. _Ew__. __Boobs__._

"Your turn," noted Rachel, raising an eyebrow.

Dave was jolted out of his reverie. "...What?" he choked. He'd forgotten about the other end of the deal.

"I'll turn my back, if it helps," offered Rachel.

Dave suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. All the same, a deal was a deal... He let out a shuddering breath and pulled off his top, trying to strike a reasonably flattering pose.

It worked. Rachel found herself gazing at him, agog. _Good __lord__, __that __figure__. __And __he __thinks __he__'__s __chubby__? __He__'__s __a __freakin__' __**beefcake**__. __I __wonder __how __those __abs __look __when __he __flexes __them__? __Oh __god__, __I __think __I __want __to __reach __out __and __touch __him__._

Dave found her staring disconcerting. _She __hates __the __hair__. __I __bet __she__'__s __grossed __out __by __it__. __Or __the __gut__. __Oh __god__, __what __am __I __doing__?_ He was shaken from his self-defamation by a sudden unexpected exclamation from Rachel.

"Oh my _god_, those muscles."

_I__'__m __being __ogled__. __Holy __shit__, __she__'__s __actually __**ogling **__me__. __Jesus__. __Maybe __Kurt __was __right__. __Am __I __hot__?_ Dave's body issues began to slowly ebb away under Rachel's scrutiny. No, not scrutiny. This was _leering_.

"You uh... don't think I'm a little flabby?" ventured Dave, hoping for a flat No. He didn't get it; Rachel was too preoccupied with, as luck would have it, his midriff - and saw a chance to see how good the goodies got.

"I want you to try something out for me," she suggested. "Try flexing your abs."

Dave nodded and tensed his abdominal muscles, pressing his fingers against them to ensure they were good and firm. They felt pretty solid, and he looked to Rachel for approval. Once again, he didn't get it.

It was more like captivation. Rachel found herself fighting the urge to reach out with both hands and start pawing at him.

"So... not flabby, then?" asked Dave, mildly entertained by Rachel's exhilaration.

Rachel's eyes lit up. "Let me check," she blurted hurriedly, before placing her hands on his abs, sliding them around his waist, and then seemingly attempting to memorize every contour of his torso by touch.

Dave couldn't help but find Rachel's reaction amusing. She was getting an almighty kick out of... _wait__, __she__'__s __groping __me__, __right __here__. __I__'__m __getting __manhandled __by __a __girl__. __Womanhandled__? __Whatever__. __This __is __positively __**indecent**__. __She __is __fucking __**gone**__._

As if reading his mind, Rachel spoke up. "This is practically sexual harassment, right here," she confessed, "and I _don__'__t __care_. God, you're... damn you for being gay. Damn you with your _abs_ and your _pecs_ and your _arms_." She continued her intense physical exploration of his bewitching toplessness the whole time.

A thought came to Dave. "Are you saying... holy shit, are you saying I'm hotter than _Finn__?_" he gasped in astonishment.

Rachel dropped her hands and glared at him. "I swear there is _no_ justice," she huffed.

Dave was delighted. "Oh my _god_, I'm totally telling him that!" he grinned.

Rachel thought for a moment. "Yes! Yes, do it!" she agreed. "It might spur him on to work out more!" She paused briefly: another thought had come to her. "Wait, I've got a better idea! You can work out _with__him__!_" she exclaimed excitedly.

Dave hopped aboard her train of thought. "You get a hotter Finn, I get extra eye candy _and_ a sparring partner, Finn gets fitter for the team, everyone wins!" he extrapolated.

Rachel nodded with unbound enthusiasm. "It's brilliant!" she cried. "We can talk him into it for sure!"

Dave nodded with a smirk. "You should, uh, put your top back on," he grinned.

Rachel slipped back into her top. "You totally shouldn't," replied Rachel, her filter by now shot to bits.

Dave grinned mischievously at her. "Nice try, Berry," he chuckled. "You're not even being subtle now."

"Don't care," insisted Rachel, nimbly scooping up Dave's top into her hands. "Stay topless."

Dave laughed. "Not happening!" he chortled as he yanked his top out of her hands and pulled it back on. "And now I have a surefire way to get you to do whatever I want."

"Oh, come on!" harrumphed Rachel. "You get to leer at Finn, isn't that enough?" Dave paused to consider the benefits of working out with Finn. He stared at Rachel for a moment, the smirk still in place.

"Hmm. For now, maybe," he grinned.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Stupid sexy Dave," she grunted - under her breath, but still loud enough for Dave to hear.

He burst out laughing.

* * *

><p>The school looked like a prison. He still had months to serve. <em>Any chance of parole?<em> he wished to himself.

Kurt tried to buoy his spirits. "Don't worry," he ventured warmly. "They've done everything they can be bothered to do. Even the slushieing's kinda getting too boring for them to bother with."

"Not for the newly-gay, I bet," grunted Dave, trying to put on a gruff front.

Kurt wasn't buying it for a second. "C'mon," he encouraged him. "We sorted out your locker for you."

Dave's curiosity was piqued. What had they done to...? Oh yeah. It had FAG written on it. Except it didn't now; as he stood in front of it, he could see they'd scrubbed it off. They'd actually made the effort to get rid of it. Permanent marker? That must have taken time. And... that's... _oh._

"Do you like it?" smiled Kurt invitingly.

A rainbow banner now adorned one of the top corners of his locker. A freaking _rainbow __banner__._

"The hell?" blurted Dave in shock. "You trying to make me more of a target?"

"You're not the only one," noted Kurt, leading him to his own locker, also decked out with a banner. He pointed out Blaine's, which was decorated in the same way. "I had to resort to a touch of emotional blackmail for that one," he grinned. "But I think he's taken to it."

"So that's... what, three of us?"

"Five."

"..._Five__?_" Dave was flummoxed. Kurt led him to the fourth locker, also bearing the banner, and some kind of axe symbol. "What's that?" he asked.

"A labrys," explained Kurt. "It denotes lesbian or feminist strength and self-sufficiency."

Dave suddenly realized whose locker he was looking at. "Santana?" he gasped.

"She came out," confirmed Kurt excitedly.

"Oh, thank god! _Finally__!_" gasped Dave in relief. Kurt's jaw dropped.

"Wait," he drawled. "You _knew_ she was gay?"

Dave smiled shyly. "Yeah, have done for months," he explained. "She kinda came out to me when she blackmailed me into starting up the Bully Whips and running for prom royalty."

Kurt shook his head and chuckled. "God, of _course_ she did, it all makes sense now," he grinned. "Ooh - number five," he chirped.

"Brittany, right?" guessed Dave.

"The very same," confirmed Kurt, pointing out Brittany's locker. Dave was delighted.

"Way to go, Tana," he whispered to himself, overjoyed to see Santana and Brittany had decided to go public.

"Anyway, we need to get you to the choir room. Everyone's waiting for us," directed Kurt.

"Everyone...?"

"You'll see," chirped Kurt, leading Dave.

"Ah, he's finally here!" cried Finn as the two boys arrived.

"Sweet!" whooped Mercedes excitedly. "You picked out colors for him, Kurt?"

Dave was immediately lost. "Colors? What...?" he stammered.

"Yep. I'll make sure it's all sprayed on evenly," smiled Kurt. "I want to be certain it looks perfect."

Dave's eyes flew open. Sprayed on? What the hell was this? "I'm sorry, we're doing _what_?" he blurted.

"We're spraying color into our _own_ hair for a change," explained Rachel.

"It's a very positive public statement," added Kurt. "Ms Pillsbury actually agrees it's a good idea. So does Mr Schue."

Dave wanted to turn and run. "Red flag. Right there. Seriously," he rebutted nervously.

Kurt's eyes rolled like marbles. "Oh, Dave," he grunted.

"This whole plan has Rachel Berry written all over it," continued Dave. "The fact that Pillsbury likes it just makes it scarier."

"Hey!" interrupted Kurt. "This was _my_ idea!"

Dave was floored by this revelation, and briefly speechless. "...it was?" he asked eventually. "Honestly?" He gave Kurt a look of utter incredulity, as if to say _why __would __you __come __up __with__... __with __**this**__?_

"Of course," confirmed Kurt gently. "It takes what they did to you and turns it on its head. We'll be owning it. We'll take it right off them," he added reassuringly.

"Besides, we're almost all on board," added Finn. "I'm totally going white."

Blaine looked apologetic. "Normally, I'd be a part of this," he explained, "but if I mix that stuff with my hairgel it'd probably just end up looking like a streaky mess, if it didn't actually damage it permanently. Sorry Dave," he shrugged. Dave nodded. At least the thought was there.

They all began to rattle through their choices. "I'm taking pink and glitter, just with a touch more styling," crowed Kurt. "Pink all over, with glitter streaks."

"I'm totally over pink," smirked Quinn. "I was thinking maybe light blue with a glitter fringe."

"That'll kick ass," grinned Finn. "You'll be like a gay statue of liberty or something." Quinn chuckled at the comparison.

"I think I might go for gold and glitter. It's very me," pondered Rachel. Nobody could argue with that; Rachel all but had glitter in her DNA.

"I think red would look badass on me," suggested Mike.

"In that case, I'm going dark blue," beamed Tina.

"I'mma have me some purple," declared Mercedes. "I could rock that look." Kurt raised an eyebrow and nodded with a smile. _Ooh__, __that __works__._

"I'm having green. I'm gonna make me a hedge," grinned Puck, to scattered chuckles.

"I might try all the colors just because they're all so pretty," noted Brittany dreamily.

"I'm going black and yellow, hornet style," asserted Santana. Dave nodded with a grin. _That__'__s __my __badass __Tana__, __for __sure__._ Dave himself, however, was stumped.

"I have no idea what I should go for," he admitted. "You're not gonna do me pink again are you?" he asked with growing concern.

Kurt smirked at the worried jock. "I've got something special in mind for you. Red down the center with white sides, and a black M sprayed into the red," he proclaimed. "If you can't wear your Letterman on your body, wear it in your hair!"

"And since it's metallic red, it's a nice nod to the Bully Whips," grinned Santana.

Dave paused to imagine how it'd look. "Holy crap," he drawled finally. "I... I think I like that!" he exclaimed.

Kurt grinned. They were going to be the talking point of the assembly that morning.

* * *

><p>They weren't. As eye-catching as the group were, there were bigger issues on the agenda. Or, more specifically, one big issue: Dave. And Figgins was on a full-blown tirade.<p>

"This type of bullying will no longer be tolerated at this school!" he barked. "As the people involved in this campaign have refused to step forward, I have no choice but to use alternative tactics to prevent their activities. As of today, every day that sees bullying of this type occurring will result in the cancellation of one training session each for the football, hockey and cheerleading teams!"

The entire glee club was thunderstruck. Even Kurt was taken aback. He'd expected Beiste to try something, but he'd had no idea that a confrontation with Sylvester could have struck paydirt as emphatically as this. The majority of the student body, however, were outraged, and pandemonium was threatening to break out.

"SILENCE! ALL OF YOU!"

The auditorium went from uproar to utter silence within a moment. The sound of Sue Sylvester's voice hollering a command across the bedlam was enough to put fear into the hearts of everyone there. Tumbleweed wouldn't have seemed out of place. Dave almost expected to hear crickets.

Sue continued. "Normally, I'd be in absolute disagreement with this directive and accuse the Principal of finally losing his marbles, but I've given it some thought. Kurt Hummel was once one of my beloved Cheerios, and he was driven from this school by a bully." Kurt raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name, and tried to figure out the timeframe. _Wait__, __I __wasn__'__t __a __Cheerio __when __I __transferred__..._ "Granted, that was after he'd left the squad, but that's neither here nor there." Kurt had to fight the urge to facepalm. As an obfuscation tactic, it worked well, but still...

"Now, putting all comments about poetic justice for said bully aside for a moment..." Dave's jaw dropped. That barb was aimed squarely at him. The other glee club members were equally appalled. This, after he'd tried to kill himself just that weekend?

"...I imagine how furious I'd be to lose one of my precious Cheerios over such feeble-minded behavior as bullying. Many, of course, would accuse me of hypocrisy and suggest I bully my girls in every training session. This is, of course, slanderous nonsense - my coaching methods are drawn from a thirst for success, not mere spite." Santana, Quinn, Mercedes and Kurt practically rolled their eyes in formation.

"That said, I will not stand by and allow bullying to take place in this school when I have the power to put a stop to it, and now that the Principal has finally grown a pair and decided to take a stand on the issue, I am 100% behind him." The parting shot at the Principal took nobody by surprise; it was classic Sue. Still, she'd thrown her weight behind the initiative.

It was more than Kurt had dared hope for. And it wasn't over yet.

Sue walked to her seat as Beiste took her place. "The Principal has my support too," she affirmed. "This past weekend, I almost lost one of my prize footballers _permanently_ rather than just temporarily. Now the rest of the team have yet to wrap their tiny brains around the fact that the footballer in question has the professionalism and grace to leave his personal issues off the playing field, much less follow his example, so I'm quite prepared for them to suffer a little for the purpose of ensuring that this bullying stops _now_." Dave's heart was hammering in his chest. This initiative was, to all intents and purposes, for _his_ benefit.

Beiste continued. "I never thought I'd ever hear myself say this, much less in front of a large crowd of people - but I'm in full agreement with Coach Sylvester. This directive stands!" she growled, as if daring anyone to challenge her.

Rachel started clapping, swiftly joined by Finn, Mercedes, then Puck, Brittany, Quinn, Artie and eventually the rest of the glee club. From across the student body, Shane, Azimio and Rashad joined in, slowly accompanied by many of the other footballers. Elsewhere among the crowd, the Cheerios had also started to applaud. As Sue had endorsed the initiative, they didn't dare not stand behind it.

A few scattered members of the student body joined in, and the applause steadily began to spread as peer pressure caused most of the students to fall in line. Several students refused to applaud - in particular, Strando, Carter and the entire hockey squad - but their silence was overlooked by the majority. Blaine, too, was applauding enthusiastically; even though he knew full well the whole thing was to protect Dave and kids like him, his attitude to Dave had softened considerably in the aftermath of Dave's hospitalization, and the plan was so close to a zero-tolerance initiative he couldn't help but throw his support behind it.

Dave, too, was applauding, and trying desperately not to fall apart as the wave of support for the newly-drafted anti-bullying program threatened to engulf him. For the first time in a while, he felt something which, at first, had seemed foreign to him, but as the feeling grew within him, he finally recognized it.

It was hope.

* * *

><p>Friday morning had rolled around once again, and Dave and Kurt were still marveling at how quiet things have been for Dave over the course of the week.<p>

"It's amazing," gasped Kurt. "The bullying seems to have dropped off completely. And four more lockers have rainbow banners on them!" he exclaimed excitedly, pointing them out.

"I noticed," grinned Dave. "Man, I guess Figgins really did manage to take all the water out of the ocean," he mused.

Kurt looked at Dave like he'd started speaking in tongues. "...you've lost me," he droned in confusion.

"You don't remember your dad using that expression?" illustrated Dave. "'If I took all the water out of the ocean, it wouldn't be wet any more'?"

Kurt suddenly recognized the expression his dad had used during the summit the school had arranged to transfer Kurt back from Dalton. "Oh! Yeah, that..." he mused, and the meaning suddenly dawned on him. "...hang on! Is that what he meant by...? _Oh_. Oh, I think I _get_ it now," he nodded, with a look of enlightenment.

Dave nodded. "Took me a second, but I just figured it out before he told us what he was getting at," he explained.

Kurt flipped an eyebrow up. "Hang on, you understood almost straight off?" he gasped. "Damn your planet-sized intellect," he muttered with a smirk.

Dave decided to poke the hornet's nest. "Hey now, don't go getting all uppity about your dad and me having the same tendency toward metaphoric interpretations!" he demanded with a playful grin, deliberately bombarding Kurt with enough big words to force a reaction.

Kurt was caught completely off guard. "Gah! Enough with the polysybill..." he retorted, halting abruptly as the word got the better of him. Dave stifled a chuckle.

Kurt tried again. "Pollybis..." he spluttered. Dave's shoulders shook with mirth.

"...polysibbick..." Dave let out a snort of laughter despite himself.

Kurt glared at him, determined to nail the word. Dave's obvious amusement wasn't helping. "...polysy_lilla_... bibba... babble..." With each passing misfire, Dave's mirth escalated, until he could no longer hold back the giggling fit consuming him.

"..._fuck __it__!_" spat Kurt, throwing his hands up in defeat as a fit of giggles took him too.

"Oh _god_, Kurt!" squealed Dave in hysterics. "I should resort to _polysyllabic __outbursts_ more often, they make you _swear__!_"

"_Damn __you__, __Karofsky__!_" barked Kurt, still in fits of giggles, as he struck Dave on the arm. The two boys could barely control their laughter, and slid down to the floor against the lockers and leaned against each other, howling with mirth.

After the past fortnight, it was exactly the tonic Dave needed.

* * *

><p><em>(AN:_ _finally, things have turned around for our boy Dave. Even Blaine seems to have been won over. But there are still a lot of unanswered questions: what will become of Dave and Azimio's friendship? Will Dave ever stand a chance with Kurt? How will Finn react to working out with Dave? How will New Directions get on in Sectionals? And who the hell outed Dave anyway? Stay tuned... :) -Lemm)_


	9. I Shake Through The Wreckage

**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: I Shake Through The Wreckage  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: none. Nobody's volunteering to beta this stuff. My creys.  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T (for language)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 5,316  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: Things start returning to almost normal for Dave, but how will his parents react when he comes to collect his things?

A/N: Once again, the chapter's taken too damn long. I've been trying to get myself a beta and nobody's taking the bait. I have no idea if this stuff's coming out in anything like a decent state. I can has betaz plz?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: I Shake Through The Wreckage<strong>

"Given the events that have transpired over the past two weeks, I believe I've come up with the perfect subject matter for next week's challenge."

The whole glee club tensed up. What was Mr Schue gonna throw at them now? It was clearly about Dave... Kurt immediately feared the worst. This was Mr Schue, after all. Will Inappropriate Schuester. _Please__, __don__'__t __say __mortality__. __Do __**not **__say __mortality__._

Mr Schue wrote out the word "SURVIVAL" on the whiteboard behind him before turning back to the group with a smile. _Oh__. __Okay__. __Uh__... __yeah__, __that__'__s __not __too __bad__._ Kurt began to visibly relax.

"Mr Schue, that's a _fantastic_ idea!" squealed Rachel.

"Hell yeah, I'm down with that," agreed Mercedes. "I'm totally bustin' me out some Destiny's Child. Tana, you want in?"

"Actually," grinned Santana, "I was thinking Christina's Fighter was more my style." She turned to Brittany. "Britt, you wanna share that with me?"

"Those two would totally go together," mused Brittany.

"Mash-up!" cried Mercedes and Santana in unison.

Dave had already seen a potential negative. "First call for an embargo on Gloria Gaynor," he declared, resisting the threat of I Will Survive with every fiber of his being. Chuckles rippled through the group.

"I would actually pay cash money to see Dave bust out a gay anthem," giggled Kurt.

"Put your money away," grunted Dave, albeit with a twinkle in his eye. "That's. Not. Happening."

Blaine decided to toy with Dave. He seemed to have come through the worst of things - he even seemed to be back on an even keel - so a little light ribbing wouldn't hurt. "We could make you do I Am What I Am from La Cage Aux Folles," he grinned. Laughter rang out from the group, particularly from Santana.

Dave glared at Blaine. "You _wouldn__'__t_," he challenged.

"Easy, guys," admonished Mr Schue. "Remember, glee club is about opening yourself up to joy, not excruciating embarrassment," he grinned.

"Sometimes it's about _both_," grinned Puck. "Remember Finn and Rachel's kiss at Nationals?"

"We're trying to _forget_ that, Puck," grunted Kurt.

"Yes, can we _please_ forget that?" whined Finn in annoyance.

Eventually, the banter died down, and a number of choices emerged - Blaine, Finn, Artie and Puck went for Elton John's _I__'__m __Still __Standing_, Dave chose, to general astonishment, a Barry Manilow number - _I __Made __It __Through __The __Rain_ - Kurt decided to reprise _Rose__'__s __Turn_, Mercedes, Santana and Brittany mashed up _Survivor_ with _Fighter_ as proposed and Tina, Rachel and Quinn decided on Ultra Naté's _Free_ with some dance accompaniment by Mike.

Once the choices were made, they started work on arrangements, and Dave realized he'd never really worked on an arrangement before. His only contribution thus far to glee club had been his audition piece, and he turned to Kurt for advice while the four boys thrashed out ideas for their Elton John number.

"I think you're best off sticking to the original arrangement," suggested Kurt. "Your range works perfectly for it, and I'd love to hear your rendition of it. I had no idea you liked Manilow," he observed in surprise.

"Only a handful of tracks. I have a pretty broad range, really," shrugged Dave. "Nobody seemed to bat an eyelid when I sung Nat King Cole."

"Yes, but this is _Manilow_," guffawed Kurt. "You're not a woman in her 60s, Dave."

"Hey!" rebuked Dave. "I'm not a teenage girl either, but I got some P!nk on my iPod."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "You... you do?" he stammered in shock. "Which ones?"

"Oh, just the obvious ones," shrugged Dave. "So What, Sober, Family Portrait, Fuckin' Perfect, Raise Your Glass... like I said, the obvious ones," he nodded.

Kurt guffawed at the last song in the list. He recalled partaking in the Warblers' rendition of it at last year's Regionals, and found himself imagining Dave performing it. _Wait__, __he __doesn__'__t __have __the __range__,_ he thought. _Too __bad__, __I__'__d __have __liked __to __see __that__._

"You're already imagining performing them, aren't you?" grinned Dave.

"You, actually, not me. I already did Raise Your Glass with the Warblers last year," smiled Kurt. "It was... well... mostly Blaine," he shrugged.

"I bet you still kicked ass," enthused Dave.

"Actually, New Directions _beat_ us," chuckled Kurt. "We can't have been that good."

"I dunno," mused Dave. "If I'm honest, you guys are actually really good. You should make it to Nationals easily. Y'know, if I don't let you guys down," he balked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dave!" chided Kurt. "You're really good! I don't think you realize how good you actually are," he posited.

"Still not as good as you," conceded Dave. "Man, I wish I was half that good."

"Half? Easily," smirked Kurt. "Maybe even _as_ good," he added playfully. "Besides, you're good at far more than I am. I'm catching up on the wordplay," he grinned, "but I bet you could leave me standing at math."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "You're struggling?" he asked.

"To put it mildly," sighed Kurt.

"I'd be happy to tutor you."

Kurt was taken aback by the invitation. "Really?" he gasped. "Wow, Dave, I... _yes__._ Yes, I accept! Thank you!"

Dave beamed at Kurt. "You're welcome," he replied, secretly overjoyed at the opportunity to spend more time with Kurt. "Tuesday evenings okay for you?"

"Perfect!" smiled Kurt.

"Sweet!" grinned Dave. "We'll have you doing adding up in no time," he quipped, earning him a skunk-eye and a dig in the ribs from Kurt.

Later, as the group went their separate ways, Blaine decided to investigate what they'd been discussing. "You and Dave seemed pretty close in there," he observed.

"He's never had to do an arrangement before," explained Kurt. "I recommended the original, and in return he's offered to tutor me in math. Gaga knows I need that," he guffawed.

Blaine felt a little hurt that Kurt hadn't come to him. "I could have tutored you," he suggested, trying not to sound like he was complaining, or jealous. He was both.

"But you're only a junior. Dave and I are both seniors," argued Kurt. "It makes more sense for him to tutor me than you. It's only on Tuesdays," he added, attempting to mollify Blaine.

Blaine had to admit he had no response for this. Dave _was_ a better choice. "I can't say I'm thrilled," he sighed, "but since it's in your best interests..." He shrugged in compliance.

"Thanks, babe," whispered Kurt sweetly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Kurt," sighed Blaine as they hugged goodbye and shared a tender kiss before going their separate ways home.

Outside, Finn had caught up with Dave. "Hey Dave, you got a minute?" he asked.

"Finn? Sure, dude, what's up?"

Finn looked awkward - even more so than usual. "This is gonna sound totally gay, but, uh... do you still work out?" he asked.

It was the last thing Dave expected Finn to ask him, and he was briefly lost for words until his discussion with Rachel came to mind. He decided to toy with him again. "Dude, I should really tell Rachel you're hitting on me," he grinned.

"Dude! I... _no__!_ I... I..."

"Chill, Finn, I'm teasing," giggled Dave. "I take it Rachel's suggested putting a little more meat on those bones?"

Finn shrugged. "She suggested you'd be able to give me some pointers," he explained.

"Well, I do still work out," confirmed Dave, "so you're welcome to join me. All business, I promise. I won't even cop a feel." Yep. Toying with Finn was turning into a habit. As habits go, he could think of worse ones... and certainly few as entertaining. Finn was once again spluttering in protest.

"Jesus, Finn, you are _such_ an easy mark," chuckled Dave. "Relax, while Kurt's around I don't even _see_ anyone else. You're totally safe with me."

Dave's assurance put Finn at ease. He did want to beef up a little; true to her word, Rachel had - somewhat indelicately, knowing Rachel - suggested more gym work to Finn and posited Dave as a potential workout buddy, noting his muscular physique. Again, knowing Rachel, she probably wasn't subtle. Dave almost felt bad for him. Of course, that didn't mean for one second he wasn't going to keep toying with him.

That was way too much fun.

As he reached his truck, an unwelcome thought resurfaced: he hadn't yet retrieved the rest of his things from his parents' place. He was dreading it. Perhaps a bit of moral support would help... "Hey, Finn!" he called out. Finn turned back from his own truck to see Dave making his way over.

"What's up, Dave?"

"I have a favor to ask."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Could you, uh... help me pick up my stuff from my mom and dad's place? I really don't wanna go alone."

Finn paused, surprised by Dave's request. This sounded like a nice way to pick up some brownie points with Rachel. "Sure, dude," he smiled. "Meet you there about 9?"

"Awesome," nodded Dave, clearly relieved. "Thanks Finn. See you there."

* * *

><p>Paul glanced through the living room window. He didn't recognize the truck parked outside. It had been there for a few minutes now, and the driver was still in his seat and showed no signs of moving. He didn't quite fear the worst, but it was certainly unsettling. Who was the guy in the driver's seat? He looked familiar...<p>

Another truck soon parked up behind the first.

_Oh__._

Paul's apprehension began to grow. That was _David__'__s_ truck. And now he recognized the other driver, who had just left his own. That kid who lived with Kurt. His... what, stepbrother or something? What was he doing here?

The doorbell rang. He had no more time to figure it out. He sighed and made his way over to open the front door.

Dave felt as nervous as he did. Finn didn't know about the letter Dave had written his parents, but he knew things were still uneasy between him and his dad, if not his mom. He reached out a hand. "Hi, Mr Karofsky," he greeted Paul warmly in an attempt to ease the chill. "Finn Hudson. I'm a friend of Dave's."

Paul nodded, and shook the boy's hand. "Hi Finn," he replied civilly. "Please, come in, both of you." Finn and Dave both entered, Dave still wary of the reception he was about to face.

"You're here to collect your things, aren't you, David?" sighed Paul. There was no heat in the question. Dave's initial impression led him to detect a hint of disappointment, but after a mere moment's consideration he realized it was something else: resignation. Like he'd lost, or had failed somehow.

Dave nodded slightly, feeling a sudden pang of sympathy. He didn't want to see his d... to see _Paul_ wounded like this, despite everything. He remembered what Kurt had told Paul.

_You __need __time __to __adapt__._ It probably applied to both of them.

"Dave, d'you wanna get everything ready upstairs?" asked Finn. "Sort through the stuff you wanna take, that kinda thing? I'd like a word with your dad."

Paul's eyebrows popped up at this. He hadn't expected such a suggestion to crop up; nonetheless, he nodded to Dave to grant his consent. Dave nodded curtly back before taking a deep breath and heading up to what was recently his room.

It was just as he'd left it. Yet again, an unexpected pang. This was his home.

_Was__. __Not__ "__is__"._ He paused briefly. _Not__ "__will __be__", __either__._ His heart sank at the notion that he may be leaving the house behind for good. He didn't really want to. Part of him still wanted to return.

Little did he know, his father felt the same way. He feared he was losing his son for good this evening. "These past few weeks have been pretty hard on him," pointed out Finn. It didn't seem fair to him that Dave should have to sever ties like this.

Paul nodded. "I know. Kurt told me what they put him through," he sighed sadly. "Is he coping? He seems..." He tailed off. Seemed what, exactly?

"Settled?" suggested Finn.

"I was going to say 'okay'," ventured Paul, "but... he does seem more like his old self. I've missed that," he admitted.

Finn saw an opening. "Missed that, or missed him?" he quizzed.

"Him," confirmed Paul. "The old him, before..." _Before __he __started __lying __to __us__. __No__, __that__'__s __not __fair__. __Before __he__... __started __lying __to __himself__?_

"Before he realized he was gay and freaked out over it?" completed Finn. The blank was so obvious even he could fill it in. It was a two-piece jigsaw.

Paul sighed miserably as his shoulders sagged. It occurred to him how little use he'd been to Dave throughout it all. "I wish I'd been able to help him through it," he shrugged sadly.

Finn tried to assure Paul that he alone wasn't at fault. "He didn't let anyone in over that," he explained. "Kurt tried to help him and he just lashed out even more. I think he only started to handle it between Kurt coming back and prom night. He quit bullying, and Kurt told me a few days before prom he gave him this huge tearful apology. Changed everything," he noted.

Paul recalled how Dave had been after prom. "He never told us what happened on prom night," he recalled, shaking his head. "I heard rumors he was voted king, but..." He shrugged, at a loss to get to the details.

Finn tried to clarify the events of the evening for him. "Well... I was kicked out early - long story," guffawed Finn shyly. "Got jealous, picked a fight, it was stupid," he admitted bashfully. "So I missed the coronation, but from what I was told, Dave was crowned king and _Kurt_ was crowned queen." Paul's eyebrows bounced upward again. Dave had _never_ mentioned that.

"It was kind of a mess," continued Finn. "Kurt ran off, but eventually he came back, got crowned, then he and Dave had to dance. Kurt tried to talk him into coming out there and then, and Dave just panicked and bolted. When we asked him about it afterward, he just brushed it off, said he didn't see why he should have to bear the brunt of a practical joke that was meant for Kurt. I guess we left it at that. Seemed to make sense, but now we know that he... well..." He tailed off. _That he was in love with Kurt. Oh man, even back then. That must have sucked._

Paul put it all together, and his heart sank for his son. "It must have been heartbreaking for him," he observed quietly. "A chance to dance with the boy he... the boy he _loved_," he pondered out loud, briefly stumbling over the notion that Dave was lovesick over another boy, "and he felt he had no choice but to refuse. No wonder he wouldn't discuss it," he sighed, his sympathy for Dave steadily growing. "Every time we raised the evening, he just clammed up."

"That explains why he threw himself into sports afterward," pondered Finn. "Anything to take his mind off Kurt, I guess. Man, I know that feeling. Well... not with Kurt," he explained quickly, "but..."

Paul smiled at Finn's hasty correction. "I understand," he nodded. "God, there's so much about him I barely even know," he mused.

"Maybe you could try to get to know each other again?"

"If he's willing," shrugged Paul sceptically. "He left us a note before he..." Once again, the words failed him and he faltered. _Tried __to __kill __himself__. __He __tried __to __commit __sui__..._

"Before... that night," added Finn, also trying to steer clear of words like _suicide__, __hanging__, __noose_ or _die_.

"Yes. Yes, that," nodded Paul, grateful that they both understood the night in question without having to mention what _happened_ on the night in question. Still, the question of what happened threatened to linger. "He, uh... he's not likely to try again, is he?" he asked. _Please__, __just __say __no__._

"Oh, no way," replied Finn reassuringly, shaking his head. "Things have turned around for him, he's cool now," he insisted.

It was a huge relief to Paul. "Good, good," he smiled. "Anyway, the things he mentioned in the note... he was so... _angry_," he recalled, his face falling at the recollection of Dave's written diatribe. "So bitter. He really lashed out."

A notion occurred to Finn. That was Dave's style. He'd reacted that way before. When... _oh__, __yeah__._ "Huh. Sounds kinda familiar," he noted.

"How so?"

"He used to lash out at Kurt. That was all out of anger too. Well, anger and _fear_," he elaborated.

Paul remembered Kurt's description of Dave's state of mind. "Kurt said he'd have felt betrayed," he pondered. "So... perhaps if those words were written out of a sense of anger, fear, betrayal..." It was a wish. He didn't yet dare believe it could be true.

"Maybe he didn't mean them?" suggested Finn, seeing Paul's point.

"Perhaps I'm kidding myself," murmured Paul desolately.

"I don't think he did," replied Finn encouragingly. "When he asked me to come over, he looked like he feared the worst. If he was still angry with you, he'd have just come here, picked up his stuff, cut all ties and left for good. He doesn't look like he's even thinking of doing that," he noted, offering Paul the hope he was so eager for.

Paul glanced toward the staircase. "He's probably finishing off upstairs. Could you send him down?" he asked. "I think we're long overdue a talk."

Finn nodded and headed upstairs to send Dave down. He and his father clearly needed a chance to talk things through.

"He really wants to talk?" queried Dave sceptically.

"Totally, dude," affirmed Finn. "I think he wants to clear the air. Seriously, I'm pretty sure you won't be going into a shouting match."

Dave gulped nervously. That was the last thing he wanted. He accepted Finn's appraisal of the situation and decided to brave the situation downstairs.

"David?" asked Paul nervously.

"Finn said you wanted to talk," replied Dave, not sure how to address his father and thus avoiding a designation entirely.

"Kurt was right," sighed Paul. "You and I probably need time to deal with... everything. We really hope you'll come back to us someday, though, son," he offered.

Dave's stomach jolted. This was no "we'll put up with you coming back if you do it on your own". This was... this was an invitation. All the same... "You get why I can't right now, don't you... dad?" he replied. The word _dad_ didn't come to him easily... but it came.

Paul nodded. "Kurt made it clear how hurt you were... how much you went through," he recalled. "All the bullying... nobody could have saved you from that, and it wasn't right for me to pin it on the Berrys," he confessed.

Dave smiled slightly. "I'm glad you see that now," he nodded.

Paul nodded back. "It's more than that," he continued. "It's not just for us to forgive you, David. I see now how badly you were hurt yourself. We need to give you time to forgive us."

Dave didn't expect that. His dad had just admitted he was wrong. He'd admitted he'd handled things badly, in a way that had hurt Dave. It was beyond Dave's expectations, and he felt his breath catch unexpectedly.

"It'll probably help us to have some time apart," he replied eventually. "At least I have that luxury," he shrugged.

Paul agreed. "In retrospect, it's probably a sensible idea," he replied. "Having you here while everything's still so... raw? You trying to steer clear of us while living under the same roof? Like strangers, almost?" He paused to consider the point.

"It wouldn't help," stated Paul and Dave - at exactly the same moment.

Dave was stunned by the consensus. The exact same thought at the exact same moment, even _phrased_ the same. It felt important: like it meant something. Like his dad really understood why he couldn't come come. At least, not yet.

It felt good.

Paul recouped his train of thought - the moment of unity had shaken him. "We need to get to know each other again," he affirmed. "Having a little distance between us will help."

"You're right," agreed Dave. "Thanks for letting me pick up my stuff in the meantime," he continued. "I appreciate that."

Paul shrugged like it wasn't even an issue. "Just because you're not living here, doesn't mean you should be without your creature comforts." He paused. "We'll uh... arrange to cover the cost of you living under the Berrys' roof while you're there, it's only fair," he added.

Dave was taken aback by the gesture, and he felt a lump in his throat. "I'll let them know. They'll really appreciate it," he nodded. He paused, his emotions buckling slightly. "So do I," he gulped.

Paul was moved by the tenderness in Dave's tone. However, there were still questions. "Son... what you did... what you... _wrote_..." he asked unsteadily. He had no idea how to approach the subject matter of the suicide note.

Dave understood, and interrupted. "It was written in anger," he assured his father. "That parting shot was... god, it was so _stupid_."

Paul was only slightly appeased. "But the way you said you felt?" he continued. "David, did we really drive you to this? You said you'd considered it while living with us. Was that...?" It was too painful to think of, that he had somehow driven his own son to suicide, but he had to know.

"No! No, dad, it wa... it wasn't you guys," replied Dave, his voice catching once again as his stability began to crumble. "It never was. It was all from outside. God, it would have helped so much to be out at home, but I was too much of a coward to tell you." He fought the words out through the constricting in his throat.

Paul, too, looked like he was struggling with his feelings. "Maybe someday... maybe _soon_," he corrected himself, "we'll get there."

Dave's heart skipped a beat. This was progress beyond his wildest dreams. Kurt was going to have kittens. "I hope so, dad," he nodded emotionally. The two men hugged as though having overcome a huge barrier keeping them both apart.

"I'll go see how Finn's getting on," explained Dave as they separated. "He could probably do with a hand."

"Don't forget to thank him for convincing you to come down," smiled Paul.

"Will do, dad," Dave grinned back.

Upstairs, Finn had made good headway with the packing. As Dave appeared, he noticed the redness in his eyes. "Dude? Did, uh... did everything go okay?" he ventured uncertainly.

"It went well," smiled Dave. "I... we... god, Finn, he said he wants me back!" he beamed. "Actually freakin' _wants_ me! Like, _soon_."

Finn grinned back at his friend. "Way to go, dude!" he nodded.

"Thanks for sending me down there, man."

"Any time, Dave. Man, I'm lucky my life isn't so... _complicated_," chuckled Finn.

As they brought out the last few boxes, Paul called out to his son from the lounge. "Son... stay in touch, won't you?" he pleaded.

"Please, sweetheart?" added Helen. She'd chosen to stay out of the way initially, unable to go through losing Dave one last time, but as it now looked much like they could bring him home some day, she wanted to make absolutely sure he stayed in contact.

The longing in her voice was like a sucker punch to Dave's guts. "I promise," he choked.

"Could we come visit some time?" asked Helen, not yet daring to hope for so much.

"I'd like that," nodded Dave, walking over to his mother and throwing his arms around her.

Finn now felt like an interloper in someone else's family scene, and wanted to escape. "C'mon, dude. We should go," he urged.

Dave turned to Finn. "I'll see you out there, dude," he nodded, giving Finn the out he eagerly sought. He turned back to his parents. "I'll call you guys soon, okay?" he promised.

"We'll be waiting," smiled Paul.

Helen looked at Dave like he was royalty. "Look after yourself, sweetie," she begged.

"And keep those grades up," instructed Paul warmly. "Do me proud," he added with a small smile.

Dave responded with a wry smile. "It'd make a change," he shrugged.

Paul would have none of it. "You usually do, son," he assured him, placing a hand on Dave's arm. "You've just been through a few rough patches. You'll make it through this one. I have faith in you," he assured comfortingly.

_I __have __faith __in __you__. _It took Dave all of his willpower not to burst into tears. "Thanks dad... that means a lot," he croaked. He turned and headed out to his truck.

Outside, Finn was waiting outside his truck, and was troubled to see Dave once again visibly shaken. It looked like he'd either been crying, or was about to. Sure enough, once the front door was closed, the tears Dave had been reining in began to roll down.

"Dude?" asked Finn, hoping things hadn't suddenly taken a bleak turn out of earshot. "Dude, what did they say?"

Dave struggled to get the words out. "Dad said he... he said he had faith in me..." he spluttered tearfully, any attempt at stoicism now far beyond him.

Finn had seen Kurt in this state the week before, and figured what worked then would work now. He pulled Dave into a manly hug, and tried to push aside his own male intimacy issues as Dave wept on his shoulder.

Inside the house, Paul and Helen were watching from the window, Paul wrapping an arm around Helen as she hugged him tightly.

"I thought he hated us. Oh god, Paul, I thought we'd lost him," she sobbed, relief washing over her.

"We probably deserved to," gulped Paul. "When I think of what that poor boy's been through..."

"Oh god, I can't even bear to think," wept Helen. "When Kurt told us what he'd gone through, it broke my heart."

"We'll make it up to him," swore Paul hoarsely, gazing at Dave through the window as he sobbed helplessly on Finn. "We owe him that much."

* * *

><p><em>(AN:_ _This was going to be the first half of this chapter, but there's so much to fit into the next one it'd be madness to fit them both together. I refuse to allow a chapter to spill over the 10,000 word mark, that's just... crazy. :) -Lemm)_


	10. Wisest Of The Animals

**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: Wisest Of The Animals  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks dude!)  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T (for language)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 4,782  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: following encouragement from Kurt and Rachel, Dave starts making a positive impact wherever he can... until good intentions threaten to derail things.

A/N: Finally, I gotz me a beta. =) Thanks to captainlove for checking out this chapter before I published. Very much appreciated.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Wisest Of The Animals<strong>

"Must be a huge weight off your mind."

"Yeah, it is. Just knowing I can go back there someday if I ever want to, y'know?"

Kurt was meant to be studying under Dave's tutelage, but the boys had become sidetracked. Given the outcome of the discussion with Dave's father only days before, it was inevitable, really. Kurt wanted to know everything, and craved a distraction from the impenetrable sea of angles, sines and cosines.

It certainly wasn't the kind of tangent he was _supposed_ to be focusing on, but as Dave appreciated the chance to talk it over with someone, he let it slide.

"I'm glad things are better between the two of you," he nodded. "Although, I have to admit, that night when you turned up on our doorstep..."

"You wanted to kill him, didn't you?" smirked Dave.

"Yes!" exclaimed Kurt. "I wanted to punch his lights out. And you _know_ that's not my style," he added pointedly.

"I'd have loved to see that," smiled Dave. "At the time. Now, though..."

"He matters to you again, doesn't he?" smiled Kurt, delighted that his friend was on the road to reconciliation with his parents. It was another big step forward - the only thing stopping him from being really happy was getting back on the football team, and Kurt wanted him to be happy.

He'd almost forgotten about the _other_ thing Dave wanted that would have guaranteed his happiness beyond question.

"They both do," sighed Dave. "Mom always did, but... I dunno. When I saw how badly I was letting dad down, I guess I started withdrawing from him. Ironically, that just made it harder for me to come out to him."

"A vicious circle," sighed Kurt sadly.

Dave snapped out of his thoughts. He was here to help Kurt with his math study. "Well, it should be _triangles_ we're concentrating on right now," he smirked. "C'mon. I know you can do this, we went through a few together. You know what to do." Kurt's face fell. He seemed only a second or two away from his _"__I __don__'__t __wanna__"_ face.

"When will I ever even use this stuff?" he huffed.

Dave suddenly had a brainwave. Kurt _must_ have used this stuff when he'd put together... "Your prom outfit," he mused.

Kurt was surprised at that even coming up. "My what?" he blurted.

"You must have put that together yourself, right?" guessed Dave. "No way was something like that off the rack."

Kurt's jaw dropped. Dave knew _tailoring?_ Or even had a vague sense of fashion? Or even noticed clothes? At all? He cast his mind back to the _boucherie du couture_ that was Dave's wardrobe. It was... well... _ugh._ "Uh... yes, I put it together myself," he confirmed. "Why, what's your point?"

Dave grinned. "How did you do the measurements?" he asked.

Kurt paused. _With __dedication __and __determination__,_ he thought. _And __impeccable __taste__._ "It took a while," he replied.

"It also took numbers," smirked Dave. "Sounds like math to me."

Kurt looked Dave in the eyes. "I see what you're doing here," he grunted.

"What, proving to you that you've already done this stuff on your own?" rebuked Dave mirthfully.

Kurt growled under his breath. "You suck," he snarled, at which Dave chuckled silently to himself. There was no heat behind the retort, merely mild annoyance. Kurt let out a dramatic sigh and knuckled down, recalling the process Dave had taken him through a few times. Sure enough, he eventually arrived at an answer and handed it over. "I _think_ it's right," he ventured.

Dave looked over Kurt's solution. It was correct, for sure... but Kurt had also demonstrated how he came to the solution, which was what examiners _always_ looked for. He'd actually solved it. _Holy __crap__, __he__'__s __cracked __it__,_ mused Dave, secretly proud of Kurt.

"Wow. Can I frame this?" Of course, he wasn't just going to _tell_ Kurt how proud he was of him straight out.

Kurt looked at him as if he'd asked to wear it as a hat. "Why would you even do that?" he guffawed.

"You kidding?" teased Dave. "You've shown all the working out, every step's dead on, and you've nailed the answer. I feel like I'm holding a priceless one-off manuscript here, this shit's _rare_." He paused briefly before smirking.

Kurt fixed him with a death glare. "Oh, screw you, Hamhock!" he spat. Again, there was no heat in the insult, just annoyance. Sure, Dave had helped him figure out how to solve the questions, but did he have to be so _cute_ about it?

"Wow, you haven't called me that in a _long_ while," smirked Dave.

"You earned it. _Dick__._"

"You must have me mixed up with someone else. I'm _Dave_."

"You're _both_," snapped Kurt, his exasperation growing.

Dave grinned back at him. "If you say so," he acquiesced. "But you can't deny I'm right. You _can_ do this stuff."

"Yes," huffed Kurt. "And then I take some Advil and _lie __down_."

"Yeah, whatever," scoffed Dave. "You need this stuff if you ever wanna be a dressmaker."

Kurt's exasperation escalated once again. "I am not a _dressmaker__!_" he barked.

Dave giggled. "Sorry! _Fashion __designer_, or whatever," he corrected, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Kurt wasn't fooled for a moment. "Oh, like you didn't know the term," he challenged, raising an eyebrow. "I'm on to you, wordy boy." Dave grinned back at Kurt, who was soon smiling back at Dave. He just couldn't stay mad at him these days. It was a far cry from the first time Dave had demonstrated his linguistic prowess...

_The two boys were making plans for PFFLAG, as Dave promised. They weren't long into the groundwork, but Kurt was already wildly enthusiastic. "It's gonna be good to get all these people together. We need each other," he declared._

_Dave, however, was more cautious. "You shouldn't get your hopes up too soon, Kurt," he urged. "Don't expect them to be totally themselves."_

_Kurt wasn't sure what point Dave was trying to make. "How do you mean?" he asked._

_Dave elaborated. "Each one of 'em will have his or her own mask on," he explained. "The ones who aren't out will be pretending like they're straight and just there to support a friend or learn how to 'be cool' about gay stuff, and the ones who are out will probably wear that like a shiny spangly second skin. They'll all be pretending to be something they're really not." He paused. "It'll be like we're studying Dramatis Personæ 101," he mumbled._

_Kurt found himself gazing at Dave with his jaw drooping, utterly blindsided by his choice of term. Dave took his expression as a bad thing, and his face fell in response. "I'm not saying it's a waste of time, seriously," he pleaded. "I'm just trying to prepare you for..."_

_"No, no! It's not that!" interrupted Kurt, quick to reassure him he hadn't fouled up. "It's... just..." The words seemed to duck and dodge from his grasp. "...I never expected you to come out with an expression like that," he explained, finally finding the words for his confusion._

_Dave raised an eyebrow. "What, 'dramatis personæ'?" he smirked incredulously._

_Kurt couldn't help but be mildly suspicious. Where would he even get that phrase from? "Do you even know what that means?" he challenged._

_Dave frowned slightly; clearly, Kurt still thought he was an **ignoramus**. "It's how I just described, really," he explained defensively. "Everyone pretending to be something they're not - putting on a face, rather than being themselves."_

_Kurt was stunned into silence. He kicked himself for forgetting Dave's secret burgeoning intellect._

_"You used to get As and Bs," his dad had said, just before Sylvester expelled him that time._

_He could barely look Dave in the eye. "I keep forgetting how smart you are," he drawled, gazing at the table, lost in his thoughts. "I need to stop doing that."_

_Dave's mouth formed the smallest smile. "I'd certainly appreciate it," he sighed._

_Kurt looked up at Dave, smiled back warmly, and nodded._

And here he was being good at math too? And singing? And sports? _That's just greedy,_ thought Kurt. Still, if it meant Kurt somehow benefited from it, he was more than willing to let it slide.

* * *

><p>He wasn't the only one. Finn found Dave a pretty hard taskmaster as they worked out together, but he couldn't deny the impact it was having on his physiology. Dave seemed to know just how far to push him, and then occasionally pushed just a bit harder. His pecs and abs were actually firming up. He'd never have believed it if he hadn't seen the results for himself.<p>

A few weeks into the grueling training sessions, a thought occurred to Finn as they took a break. "When I'm doing the plank position or press-ups... uh... you're not staring at my ass, are you?" he asked.

Dave saw a sitting duck. "Well, look at it this way. If you were working out with, say, Brittany or Santana, would you be concentrating on the workout or their figures?" he grinned.

Finn looked briefly thoughtful, then slightly ashamed. He'd _totally_ get an eyeful of them. They were girls. They were hot. They were... _not __sex __objects_. A recent minor squabble had sparked that comment from Rachel - a moment of hilarious hypocrisy as she was treating Finn exactly that way lately.

Dave saw Finn's reaction and decided to have some fun. "Maybe you should try not to do that so much, Finn," he chirped merrily.

Finn sighed in irritation. "C'mon, I can't help looking at girls, I'm a teenage guy, it's practically wired into me," he complained.

"There's your answer, then," shrugged Dave. "Not my fault you're such a hot chick," he grinned.

Finn balked at the comparison. "...dude!" he yelped.

Dave was lapping it up. "Fine, hot _dude_," he faux-corrected himself with a pretend eye-roll, merrily leading Finn wherever he chose to take the conversation.

Finn became more and more flustered. "No, that's not what I...!" he spluttered.

"Finn, relax!" chuckled Dave. "I'm no threat to you. For three really good reasons - first, you're with Rachel. And there's no bigger turn-off for me than infidelity," he stated adamantly.

Finn was surprised by this. He hadn't really considered what revved Dave's engine, and that it'd be something so nuanced rather than "that's a nice ass"... "Second," continued Dave, "and you know this already - I only have eyes for Kurt."

Finn nodded, recalling how clearly smitten Dave was. Nobody else would really get a look in.

"And finally - and this is the big one," affirmed Dave, "dude, you're _straight_. That'd just be... _wrong_, somehow."

Finn guffawed at the suddenly obvious point. There was no point in hitting on Finn as his chances with him were basically _zero_, so why would he waste the time? "I hadn't thought of that. I guess, after how Kurt was around me..." he explained.

"I'm not Kurt, dude," interrupted Dave, slightly indignant at the comparison. It gave Finn yet another light bulb moment as the realization dawned on him.

"No. No, you're not," he nodded, his expression betraying his sudden understanding.

"And just cos I'm gay," elaborated Dave, "doesn't mean I'm only about the next lay. Hell, that's more like Puck than me. If _he_ was gay, he'd be out there bangin' every guy in town," he observed with a trace of distaste. "I'm a little more choosy."

Finn nodded again, before a thought possessed him. Was he... actually _not __hot __enough_ for Dave to show him any interest? "Wait... are you saying you _wouldn__'__t_ do me?" he blurted.

Dave was floored by Finn's apparent one-eighty. "Dude, make up your mind!" he cackled.

Finn immediately sought to clarify his point, but ended up with a face full of word flambé. "No! No, I'm... I mean, I..." he spluttered.

Dave took pity on him and tried to help him out. "It's nice to know you're attractive, huh?" he interrupted with a smile, nodding his agreement.

Finn breathed a sigh of relief. He'd managed to escape from the embarrassment of it all. "Yeah, pretty much," he shrugged with his trademark bashful smile.

Dave smiled back. "I know the feeling," he replied. "Rachel kinda helped me with my body issues recently and proved to me that I'm actually not bad looking. Felt good," he admitted.

Finn couldn't help but feel a little disgruntled at the memory of Rachel's mention of _stupid __sexy __Dave_. "Yeah, she _said_," he grumbled.

"Kinda weird, isn't it?" observed Dave. "She likes how I look, I like how you look, you like how _she_ looks. We're kinda this weird little triangle," he grinned.

Finn grunted. "I want her to like how _I_ look. I want those arms," he insisted, pointing at Dave's biceps.

Dave chuckled silently. "Don't worry, dude. We'll get you there," he assured Finn supportively.

"How did your arms get so big anyway?" asked Finn, eager to know Dave's secret.

Dave gave him an inscrutable look. "I guess that's what I get for having _pubes __in__ 5__th __grade_," he noted, flicking up an eyebrow.

Finn's eyes rolled like marbles. "Oh god, _that__,_" he groaned. "Okay, you came out on top, can we get over that now?" he huffed.

Dave chuckled. "Over it, dude," he conceded. "C'mon, lets get those pipe cleaners of yours whipped into shape."

"Stop calling my arms _pipe __cleaners_," muttered Finn.

Dave giggled at Finn's reaction. He was far too easy to needle.

They got back to their workout, Dave pushing Finn far enough that he struggled, but not so far that he passed out or threw up. Whenever Finn looked like he was really ready to drop, Dave eased off the gas and ordered Finn to take a break. Finn knew he'd ache for days after such a relentless training regimen, but he was determined to beef himself up a bit.

Or a lot. After all, he wanted Rachel to gaze at him slack-jawed. That was his main motivation, of course - any benefit the football team or the glee club derived from it was a bonus. _Hmm. Maybe I should speak to Mike about learning how to dance better like I did last year?_ he mused idly._ Rachel would be sure to pay attention to that._

Dave interrupted his pondering. "You keeping up okay, dude?" he asked. "You need to tell me if I'm pushing you too hard."

"No, not at all," assured Finn. "You're pushing me just right. I need someone to drive me just beyond my limits, I'd never do it alone."

"Yeah, but I don't wanna push you _too_ far."

"You're not. Really," insisted Finn. "You know just how far to push me. Man, you could totally be a coach someday."

Dave considered the idea. As a long term plan, it had potential, but in the short term he just wanted to be back out on the field. _Maybe __someday__,_ he thought. _But __not __now__._ "I'd rather be back on the team than managing it," he sighed. By chance, they happened to glance at each other. Their eyes met, and suddenly Finn saw it. Dave needed to get back out there. He missed it.

And, as the recent results proved, they needed him too.

"Give us time, man," urged Finn. "We're coming round. Seriously. I mean, Beiste's putting us through hell for shooing you away, and I guess we deserve it, but I think the rest of the team's starting to realize what they're missing. You were awesome."

Dave choked out a bitter laugh. "Jesus," he spluttered. "They must _really_ hate me if they recognize the talent and _still_ won't have me back."

Finn grunted in annoyance at Dave missing the point. "I'm telling you, they're gonna be ready to bring you back in some time soon," he affirmed. "Trust me."

To Dave's surprise, he found himself doing just that; there was a look of fierce conviction in his eyes. He really believed what he was saying. _Maybe __he__'__s __right__,_ he considered. _Man__, __I __wish __I __could __ask __Z __about __this__, __but __he __won__'__t __even __give __me __the __time __of __day__._

Little did the boys know, their conversation had drawn an audience. Just outside the gym, Coach Beiste was listening in. She could tell without even trying that Dave needed a pep talk, and decided to intervene. She made her way inside. "Doing a little extra workout, boys?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Dave's kinda coaching me to help beef me up a little," explained Finn, nodding toward Dave who felt abashed in the presence of an _actual_ coach.

"It's just a bit of guidance, really," insisted Dave, shrugging off the assertion that he was any good at coaching. "It's total amateur hour stuff."

Coach Beiste pounced on his self-deprecation like a lion pinning down a gazelle. "It's you who's been whipping Finn into shape?" she observed. "Hell, if you're that good you could have a career as a personal trainer when you leave school!"

Dave struggled to accept the compliment, but took it in good grace. "If you say so, Coach," he shrugged with a bashful smile.

"Actually, Dave, could you stay back once you're done? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Dave was taken by surprise by the request. Why would Beiste want to talk to him? "Sure, Coach," he nodded. "We're kinda done for the day anyway." Finn nodded in agreement.

"I was about to hit the showers," he confirmed. "I'll leave you two to it." With that, he headed off to get cleaned up, leaving Dave and Beiste alone in the gym.

"Hudson's not wrong about the team, you know," assured Beiste.

Dave was dubious. "He's just one guy," he rebuked. "He can't speak for all of them."

"It's not just him, kiddo," countered Beiste. "When word got out about you tryin' to off yourself, it changed things. Made them realize how badly they need you on the team. Now, right now that thought's fighting against their ingrained prejudice, but it's winning. It's slow in coming," she admitted, "but it's happening."

Dave started to believe her. The mention of his... _attempt_ punched a hole in his skepticism. "You think it'll just take time?" he asked.

"I'm sure of it. Hang on in there, Dave," she urged.

"That's all I've been doing," he sighed.

"You're not the only one," noted Beiste. "You should pay more attention to Adams - he might not say it, but he's hurtin' over losing his best friend."

She couldn't have known how important this was to Dave, but she figured it'd matter to him. She wasn't wrong. "So why doesn't he talk to me about it?" he pleaded.

Beiste shrugged. On that point, she was out of ideas. "I dunno, maybe he's ashamed or something," she guessed. "He'll come round too, though, you can bet on it. I heard him snapping at Strando the other day in the locker room when someone mentioned you and he threw out ...well, the usual insults," she faltered, reluctant to actually state that Strando had, true to form, referred to Dave as a _fag_ as he usually did.

This was a revelation to Dave. Azimio was _defending_ him to the rest of the team? And his name had come up in the locker room? Maybe there was a chance after all.

He had to tell Kurt about this. Kurt would want to know. And he'd go _apeshit_.

* * *

><p>"He's even standing up for me in the locker room!"<p>

"Oh, Dave, that's great news! I'm so happy for you."

Okay, so... _not_ apeshit, then. Dave and Kurt had taken a break from the studying, and Dave had taken the opportunity to spill the revelations about Azimio to him. It wasn't quite the seat-bouncing, air-punching yayfest he'd hoped for.

"Somehow I expected you to be doing cartwheels," observed Dave, confused. "Or, y'know, similar."

Kurt, of course, hadn't told Dave he was helping Azimio behind the scenes. He didn't want to give him false promises in case it all went to pieces; from the sound of it, however, it was working out well. "I had a feeling it'd just take time," he lied.

"Thing is, he's still being weird around me," sighed Dave. "In fact, he's acting weirder than usual. I only just noticed it recently. He doesn't exactly _blank_ me, but... I dunno. It's like he can't look me in the eye."

"Give him time," assured Kurt. "He's coming round, slowly but surely. He'll come to you when he's ready."

Dave found Kurt's assurances just a little _too_ assuring to take at face value. "How can you tell?" he asked.

Kurt paused. He glanced away briefly as though to gather his wits. Dave picked up on it like Sherlock. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing.

Kurt bowed his head remorsefully. "I've... I've been kinda easing him into the whole my-best-friend's-gay thing," he confessed. "He needs a hand getting over this, and I volunteered to help him."

Dave didn't reply. He just stared at Kurt. He looked neither hurt nor hopeful. He just... _looked_. Kurt tried to appease him. "Don't be mad at him," he urged. "He's trying, he just..."

"It's not him I'm mad at," interrupted Dave, his eyebrows arching downward.

It stopped Kurt cold. "...what?" he ventured timidly.

Dave vented his disappointment. "You've known for weeks," he challenged. "You've been _doing __this_... for _weeks_. And you thought... what, that it'd be a great idea to hide it from me? Leave me wondering why he keeps looking at me and turning away?" This was more than disappointment. This was... oh. That again. _Betrayal__._ He'd almost missed it.

Oh, wait. No, he hadn't. He could have done without feeling this way _ever __again_, and now he was getting it from _Kurt_, of all people.

_Awesome__. __Thanks __a __bunch__, __Hummel__._

Kurt desperately tried to defend his actions. "I didn't want to get your hopes up," he explained nervously.

Dave's expression faded to neutral once again. What hopes? "Don't worry. They're _way_ down."

"Right," nodded Kurt cautiously.

"Didn't expect my trust and respect to jump down there with 'em, though," snarled Dave. "That's new."

Kurt was blindsided. "Wait, what?"

"I should have been told about this," growled Dave, his voice steadily rising. "It was about _me_."

Kurt was suddenly assailed by the depth and volume of his blunder. He'd hidden something about Dave, from Dave. What had he been thinking? "Dave... Dave, please..." he pleaded, crestfallen.

Dave felt the bile rising in his throat. "No. Just... _don__'__t_," he spat angrily through clenched teeth. "I don't care what you meant to do, Kurt. You _went __behind __my __back_. I thought you at least cared enough not to do that!"

"Dave, wait!" begged Kurt, frantic at the damage he'd done.

Dave felt the anger boiling inside him. He knew he had to leave before he said... before he _did_ something he couldn't take back. "I'm just... I'm gonna just go," he blurted, fighting to keep his emotions in check. "I can't be here right now." He left as quickly as he could and almost ran to his truck. He climbed in and slammed the door loudly behind him, and finally, out of view of Kurt, he slammed a fist down furiously on the steering wheel, letting out the same screech of frustration as he'd vented to a near-empty locker room after he'd been pushed away by Kurt.

Kurt was devastated. He'd managed to ruin things, and all because he wanted to make things better for Dave. It took him a few seconds to realize there were tears running down his face.

He let them run. He'd hurt Dave. Again.

* * *

><p><em>(AN:_ _There's still a lot to fit into the next chapter, so I figured I'd end this one here. Also, I'm a sucker for an angsty cliffhanger. :o)__ Don't worry, there's still Sectionals to come yet... -Lemm)_


	11. The Needle's Running Down

**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: The Needle's Running Down  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks again dude!)  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T (for language)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 7,926  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: New Directions' Sectionals set list is revealed - but between Dave and Kurt's recent falling-out, Blaine's ambitious streak and the dance routine for the finale, have they taken on too much?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: The Needle's Running Down<strong>

Dave and Kurt hadn't spoken since Tuesday, when Dave had stormed out of the Hummel household. The shock of discovering Kurt had been working with Azimio behind his back had left a bad taste in his mouth, and since then he'd barely been able to look Kurt in the eye.

Kurt had been too ashamed of himself to even approach Dave; Dave had, in turn, taken Kurt's distance as a signal that he felt his actions were justified, and that he had every right to try to sort out Azimio for Dave's sake so he'd have his best friend back. Kurt, however, far from being self-assured about his actions, had started second-guessing his decision to help Azimio and Finn - had he overstepped his bounds? If so, how could he possibly make it up to Dave? So far, his good intentions had just caused damage. There seemed to be no obvious way to fix things.

Which meant this afternoon's glee club meeting was going to be a spectacular suckfest.

The two boys sat apart from each other, attempting to keep a distance. Respectful? Awkward? Alienated? Estranged? Neither of them had the word for it. Either way, they were both focusing on the set list for Sectionals to keep their minds wandering to places they didn't want them to go.

And, as set lists go, this one seemed like a doozie. They'd decided to go all Jacksons, leading with Michael's inimitable _Human_ _Nature_, then going into a Luther/Janet duet with _The_ _Best_ _Things_ _In_ _Life_ _Are_ _Free_, and finishing off in spectacular and seat-of-your-pants attention-grabbing style with Janet's _Rhythm_ _Nation_. So far, the group had unanimously decided to share the leads of Human Nature and Rhythm Nation, with Mercedes taking the first verse of Human Nature. Beyond that, however, nothing was set in stone other than the general consensus that, based on the set list alone, Sectionals could easily be theirs to take.

"Mr Schue, we might tease you about your song choices now and then," smiled Quinn, "but with this set list... I think you've nailed it." The group voiced their agreement.

"Thanks, guys," nodded Mr Schue, "but the duet is gonna be a pretty crucial part. If we ace Rhythm Nation - and I mean _really_ ace it - we can get away with any mistakes in the duet, but I don't want to leave anything to chance. I've got an idea about who I'd like to select for the duet based on a pairing last week that worked perfectly, and I'd like to hear your feedback." The choir room fell silent as they all tried to guess who'd be getting the duet. A recent pairing? Finn and Rachel? Maybe Mike and Tina? Mike recently shocked all of them by showing off his vocal talent - and he'd immediately been accused of holding out on them all. Santana had performed with Brittany recently, but neither of them seemed like a fit for Luther...

"I think Kurt and Dave could knock this out of the park."

Gasps filled the air as the pairing was suggested - followed by murmurs of agreement and notes of encouragement as they recalled Dave's recent performance with Kurt two weeks back. Puck was the first to speak out. "Dude, Mr Schue's right, you're totally Luther!" he enthused. "Well, apart from the being black," he shrugged with a grin.

Under any other circumstances, he'd have been thrilled, but... Kurt. And him. A duet. When things were as strained as this? Mr Schue could see how uncomfortable he looked, and noted how Kurt looked similarly ill at ease with the suggestion. "Guys, what's the problem here?" he asked.

"It's kinda personal," explained Dave.

"We had a... misunderstanding recently," elaborated Kurt. "It might be best if someone else took the duet, Mr Schue."

"Oh my god!" chirped Santana, eager to stir things up. "Are you two gettin' your mack on behind Blaine's back?"

"Quit it, Tana," growled Dave, unwilling to put up with her usual ribbing.

"Got somethin' to hide, Davey?" she trilled in response.

"I SAID QUIT IT!" barked Dave furiously, causing several among the group to leap in fright.

"Knock it off, you two!" snapped Mr Schue, in an unspoken warning to drop the issue or leave the room. Dave was all too happy to remain silent, and Santana was sensible enough not to push Dave too far; the subject was closed, and Mr Schue tackled the Kurt/Dave situation.

"Guys, I appreciate it can't be easy performing together when you might be having trouble in private," he explained sympathetically, "but we need our A-game for Sectionals, and you guys are it."

"You're really gonna make us do this?" whined Dave in protest. This was exactly what he didn't want.

"Groups are besieged by personal issues all the time," insisted Mr Schue, driving his point home. "We tackled the topic of Fleetwood Mac last year, and it's pretty likely that the stresses and exhaustion of touring cause friction in a lot of bands. You know what they do?" he challenged. "They _work_ _through_ _it_. They have the professionalism to accept that their fans have paid to see them perform, and they accept that they have to go out there and deliver. This situation's no different - Dave? Kurt? We _need_ you guys to give it your all."

Kurt's shoulders sagged. Mr Schue was right: if he couldn't perform with Dave, even with things the way they were between them, he could hardly call himself a performer. "If you insist, Mr Schue," he sighed. Dave's unease with the situation was already growing, but he looked up and nodded wordlessly.

"Good to have you on board, guys," smiled Mr Schue in a display of gratitude.

"I have to say, Mr Schue, it's a pretty daring proposition to have two boys singing a love song," noted Rachel. "I'm impressed. It's very progressive of you," she smiled.

Santana rolled her eyes, folded her arms and, as usual, went in for the kill. "Mr Schue, I just wanna confirm," she asked, seemingly innocently, "we're not going back to the 18th century for Sectionals, right? Cos Rachel seems to think our performance is gonna get us _lynched_ by an angry mob. Y'know, what with it being _illegal_ and all."

Rachel turned and glared at Santana. _Yeah, I_ _see_ _what_ _you_ _did_ _there. Thanks_ _for_ _the_ _misinterpretation._ "No wait, it's not," drawled Santana, driving her point home like a wooden stake. "It's the 21st century and it's _totally_ _cool_."

Schue sighed. Santana's one-girl stand up show was off again. And off _target_ again. "Steady, guys," he warned. "Rachel does have a fair point. It might be fine in _principle_, but it's still pretty rare," he observed, seeking to placate both parties. "Other than Kurt and Blaine's duet last year, I don't recall the last time I heard a same sex duet doing a love song. It'll give us just a bit more profile," he added.

Kurt felt more than a modicum of discomfort at the suggestion. "Mr Schue, you're not just pairing me off with Dave for... for mere titillation, are you?" he pleaded.

"Not at all, Kurt," insisted Mr Schue, shaking his head. "The harmony you pulled off with Dave last week made you the obvious choice. Your voices go together beautifully." The unanticipated compliment drew a vivid blush from Dave. Kurt noticed and found it adorable.

Not that he felt he could tell him, what with the situation they were in.

Blaine could rein in his disappointment no longer. "No offense, Mr Schue, but I really think Kurt and I would have had better chemistry," he urged. "We've performed together before, as you mentioned."

"Yeah, you sang a break-up song together and we kicked your asses with a set list about getting stuff wrong and being losers," snarked Puck. "I think there's a message there, dude." Kurt struggled to stifle a chuckle.

Mr Schue wasn't about to take that lying down. "Funny, I seem to recall the songs being about trying to _make_ _up_ for your mistakes, and being _labeled_ losers. Are you a loser, Puck?" he demanded, calling out Puck. He was in no mood for any nonsense today.

"Hell no," replied Puck confidently. "We're gonna rock Sectionals."

Mr Schue smiled. _Good_ _to_ _see_ _you_ _kids_ _so_ _keen._ "Well, it's not going to be easy," he warned. "We're going to have to perfect the moves for _Rhythm Nation_. It'll be a fantastic finale, but only if we get it right."

Finn suddenly had an idea. "Well, Dave's been kicking my ass in the gym for the past few weeks," he interjected. "Maybe he could help whip everyone else into shape?"

Dave took the suggestion badly. "What! Dude, you're one guy, I doubt I could handle a whole troupe!" he retreated.

Mike saw a potential solution. "Maybe we could bring Coach Beiste in on this?" he suggested. "She's supported us before. And we pulled off the _Thriller/Heads_ _Will_ _Roll_ halftime show last year." Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group.

"Actually, that's a pretty good idea," grinned Mr Schue enthusiastically. "I'll see what she thinks. You could be on to something."

Over the course of the rest of the meeting, they finalized the vocal assignments.

Mercedes would take the first half of the first verse of _Human_ _Nature_, Santana the second half, the shorter second and third verses would go to Blaine and Quinn and the group would take the choruses as an ensemble with Mercedes and Rachel taking the vocal flourishes.

Kurt and Dave had already agreed to duet for _The_ _Best_ _Things_ _In_ _Life_ _Are_ _Free_, but the mid-song rap originally performed by Bel Biv Devoe and Ralph Tresvant was perfect for Artie, Puck and Finn. Again, the group would take the choruses and apply backing harmonies with their usual flair.

For _Rhythm_ _Nation_, it was all girls... and Kurt. Rachel, Tina, Santana, Mercedes and Brittany would lead the way, Kurt would take a few well chosen lines and everyone would take up the chant of "We are a part of a rhythm nation" in the chorus, but the combination of the vocals and dancing would put them head and shoulders above everyone else - as long as they nailed the moves. What they were going to do with Artie was... still up for discussion. To be fair, he really knew how to sling that chair...

But Dave and Kurt still had misgivings about their impending duet. They'd barely spoken all week, and things were strained between them. They had to at least be on speaking terms to perform and rehearse. Things had to move on, one way or the other.

In the end, it was Dave who broke the deadlock. "Kurt?" he asked as everyone was leaving. "Can we talk?"

Kurt paused for a moment, and turned to Blaine. "Can you give us a moment?" he asked. "I'll catch up with you." Blaine glanced at Dave, then looked back to Kurt. He knew it'd be a dick move to refuse him, but he hated the idea of them spending _even_ _more_ time together. It'd been nice having Kurt to himself this past week. Nonetheless, he sighed and nodded an unspoken "_if_ _you_ _must_" before leaving them alone in the choir room.

Kurt sat down beside Dave. "Dave... I..." he started falteringly, unsure of what to say.

"No, let me say this," interrupted Dave. Kurt's face fell; he had a feeling he was going to suggest that their friendship had hit an immovable object and that they keep it strictly business.

"Kurt," continued Dave, before pausing to consider how to phrase his point. Kurt felt an unexpected lump in his throat.

"...I'm an _idiot_."

Kurt's mouth fell open briefly in amazement. He'd never have expected that. "Uh... I don't see how, but okay," he acknowledged uncertainly.

"You were trying to help me," explained Dave. "Regardless of how you went about it, you were trying to help. And not just me, either," he added. "You were helping Z, too."

Kurt smiled at the recognition of the good deed. "And Finn," he revealed. "I'm kinda going all PFFLAG-in-depth on them. They need more of an education than I imagine you ever really did. You worked it out on your own. They need a little guidance to get there," he reasoned.

Dave hadn't expected this. "Z _and_ Finn?" he gasped.

Kurt nodded. "Azimio was pretty cut up about not being allowed in to see you at the hospital," he shrugged. "It was just the push he needed - when I suggested helping him get used to having a gay friend, he more or less jumped at the chance. Finn was there when he did, and I think his guilt led him to sign up too."

"Wow," breathed Dave in shock. He'd never really considered the impact his... his _rope trick_, as he'd started referring to it internally, would have had on everyone else - especially Azimio.

"Give them a little time. They're doing this for you, Dave," urged Kurt.

"So are you," noted Dave, suddenly brightening up at the realization that Kurt was doing so much for him without him even having to ask. "_You_'_re_ doing this."

Kurt's brow furrowed at his handling of it all. "I did it _wrong_. I should have told you," he sighed.

Dave smiled to him. "It's okay. I get why you didn't, and I'm okay with it," he nodded reassuringly.

Kurt let out a huge sigh of relief, as though letting out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding in. "Thank god, I thought you were gonna fall backward," he smiled. "Can you forgive me?"

Dave waved away the plea. "Nothing to forgive," he guffawed. "I was an ass, and I shouldn't have flipped out."

"You have trust issues after... well, _everything_," shrugged Kurt. "Like I said, I should have known better."

"I shouldn't have taken it out on you, though," stated Dave in self-admonishment, shaking his head.

"At least you didn't shoulder barge me," smirked Kurt.

Dave chuckled. "And you didn't start bitching! Man, we've come a long way," he grinned.

Kurt giggled at the easy humor. "Far enough to maybe even duet in front of a large crowd?" he dared with a gleam in his eye.

"Bring it on, Janet," grinned Dave.

"Ms Jackson... if you're _nasty_," giggled Kurt, eliciting a belly laugh from Dave.

"Holy shit," he chortled. "I hope Mr Schue's not planning on choreographing a 'wardrobe malfunction'!" Kurt burst out laughing at the ridiculous mental image. The humor helped. It always seemed to.

"So, out of curiosity," asked Dave eventually, "how are you helping Z and Finn get used to their Big Gay Best Friend?"

"Largely discussions and tear-downs of the usual myths. That we sleep around - yeah, cos you and I have _so_ many notches on our bedposts between us," observed Kurt wryly, rolling his eyes. Dave couldn't help but giggle at Kurt bantering about the two of them still both being virgins.

"That we try to turn people, or even _can_," continued Kurt, "that we want to be women - ugh, I _hate_ that one."

Target acquired. "Well, you did wear a _skirt_ to prom," smirked Dave, knowing full well Kurt wouldn't let it lie. He wasn't wrong: Kurt turned slowly to him in exasperation, glaring. Dave just shrugged, his smirk still in place.

"You know full well it wasn't a _skirt_," grunted Kurt, one eyebrow flicking upward with such force it seemed to be trying to become one with his hairline.

"Kilt, skirt, _whatever,_" shrugged Dave expansively with a chuckle. "All I know is, you looked _amazing_."

Kurt wasn't expecting such a compliment from out of nowhere - especially in the midst of such blatant teasing. He blushed and looked downward, briefly unable to make eye contact. An unbidden smile spread across his face as the compliment took root. _You_ _looked_ _amazing._ It was a far cry from Blaine's "I think your dad has a point". Blaine probably thought that, why couldn't he just have said it like Dave just did?

Silence fell as Kurt's mind wandered to junior prom. It felt awkward suddenly, and Dave decided to change the subject. "So, uh, what else do you guys do?" he asked.

Kurt snapped out of his reverie. "I'm taking them through a handful of movies," he explained. "_The_ _Laramie_ _Project_ was first on the list - that actually shocked them. Then we watched _The_ _Celluloid_ _Closet_ and _The_ _Birdcage_ back to back. Finn's such a huge Robin Williams fan I suspect the message was lost on him," he huffed. "Also, Azimio took it as confirmation that gay guys _do_ want to dress up as women, and _urgh_," he grumbled.

Dave recognized that. Azimio loved to needle people, maybe even more than he did. "Trust me, he was doing that to needle you," he chuckled. "He can be kind of a dick sometimes."

"Well, he certainly knows how to push my buttons," muttered Kurt.

Dave suddenly had a revelation. If Azimio was acting like that around Kurt... "Wow. That actually sounds like a good sign," he smiled. "He does that to the guys on the team all the time, even to me." He paused. _Not_ _so_ _much, lately._ "Well... _used_ to," he sighed.

Kurt immediately sought to buoy Dave's spirits. He could see how much Azimio's friendship meant to him. "He will again," he assured him. "If he's that comfortable with me, it sounds like he's come a long way."

Dave was blindsided by just how far he _had_ come. "Damn. He really has," he drawled, agape. "He's watching gay movies with a gay kid, so he can be okay with his gay best friend. That..." Words briefly failed him. It was a major step. "He..." he faltered, his throat constricting.

Kurt saw just how affected Dave was by it all. He hoped it was a good sign, but feared the worst. "What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"Just hit me how much effort he's putting in," gulped Dave, a familiar sting prickling his eyes.

Kurt let out a sigh of relief. It _was_ a good sign. "Told you," he smiled kindly. "He's getting there, it'll just take time."

Dave looked at Kurt, filled with gratitude, and placed an arm across his shoulders. "Thanks for doing this," he smiled. "Seriously."

Kurt smiled warmly back. "You deserve it, Dave," he assured him.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Mike's idea had pretty much hit the nail on the head: Coach Beiste had been itching to get involved in glee club again following their previous successful collaboration. Also, as it gave Dave the chance to build up his own self image, she had plenty enough motive to take on the role.<p>

It also gave Artie the chance to show off his talent in the chair as they figured out what to do with him during the _Rhythm_ _Nation_ routine. Dave had admitted he had no idea what Artie could accomplish, and Artie dazzled him with a routine filled with wheelies, lightning fast 360s, breakneck turns, an occasional tilt and a full-speed rush straight _at_ Dave with a sudden stop at the last second - which, to Dave's shame, had made him flinch. The whole club were taken aback - they knew Artie had skills, but they'd never really seen what he was capable of. In lieu of legs, he'd really learned to sling his wheels.

"Holy shit, Artie," gasped Dave. "You slung that thing round like a fuckin' _Ferrari_."

Artie shrugged. "I've kinda let it become an extension of me," he explained. "Might as well learn to dance with it, I figured."

"Dude, that was more than dancing," gasped Mike. "That was... I... I don't even have the words."

Dave was struck by an idea. "I figure Artie's gonna manage to fit in well enough for _Rhythm_ _Nation_," he decided. "But come Regionals, we should really show him off. Dude, you could be our secret weapon."

Artie grinned at the idea. "Maybe I could thrash out a routine with Mike?" he suggested.

"Oh man, I am _all_ _over_ that," enthused Mike.

The training worked out well for the whole club, boosting their stamina and beefing up their muscles where it was needed the most. It seemed they were going to be easily fit enough for the routine come Sectionals. Not everyone was happy about the punishing training regimen, however. Mercedes found it tough going, but accepted she had to work hard to get fit for the routine: Blaine, on the other hand, felt like he was being singled out.

"I'm telling you, he's pushing me harder than everyone else," he wheezed.

"Excuse me?" gasped Kurt, also out of breath. "My core muscles are taking a beating out there. He's riding _all_ of... us," he faltered. "Okay, maybe I could have phrased that a little better," he winced.

"Kurt's right. He's pushing _all_ of us hard, boo," panted Mercedes from a nearby treadmill.

"I'm telling you, he's pushing me harder," insisted Blaine. "He's got it in for me."

Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine. "Oh, _please_!" he drawled. "I had harder workouts than this under Coach Sylvester when I was a Cheerio. I thought _I_ was supposed to be the drama queen here?"

Dave caught wind of the fuss and decided to interject. "Dude, I'm not the only one giving the orders here," he countered. "You should take this up with Coach Beiste. If you think we're going too hard on you, say something."

"Relax, Dave," smiled Kurt. "He's just not used to all the exercise." Blaine bridled at Kurt's defense of his ex-bully and stomped off to one of the treadmills.

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Was it something I said?" he shrugged, with just the trace of a smile. Kurt caught the twinkle in Dave's eye and struggled to stifle his giggles.

* * *

><p>Days had passed, and Blaine's attitude over the whole thing hadn't budged: the idea of Dave and Kurt dueting at Sectionals really irritated him. It wasn't just that he felt he was a better fit for the song - well, okay, maybe that was <em>part<em> of it - it was also the way that Dave had basically just walked in and taken over. A duet with Kurt during Duets week - again, not really Dave's fault as the pairing off had been done at random, but did he have to _enjoy_ it so much? - being selected for one of the big Sectionals numbers, and now he'd been given the authority to work with Beiste - and she wasn't even _part_ of the glee club! - to run them all ragged.

It all left a sour taste in his mouth, and it was causing friction between him and Kurt.

"It's like he's always there in the background," grumbled Blaine as they lay together on Kurt's bed - fully clothed with the door open, of course, to avoid the wrath of Burt.

"Well, he can't just _not_ turn up for glee club," smiled Kurt amiably. "And I'm thrilled he's taken to it so well. He's really dedicated."

"And we aren't?" argued Blaine, barely concealing his annoyance.

"That's not what I meant," sighed Kurt. "I was worried he wouldn't really participate properly, like it'd just be a _haven_ for him," he explained. "But he's really thrown himself into it. The club's actually benefited from his inclusion. I never saw _that_ coming!" he chuckled.

"But he's only just turned up!" countered Blaine. "What makes him so special?"

"I guess it's the turnaround," posited Kurt. "We all used to know him as just this bully, and now they've seen he's actually a really nice guy, with a really sweet baritone. Maybe we're just suckers for redemption," he grinned.

"It's just so... _galling_," huffed Blaine.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at his beau. "This wouldn't just be because you don't have a solo at Sectionals, would it?" he suggested, his mouth turning up at the corner.

Blaine was indignant. "It's more that he _does_ have one," he sighed. "He used to hate glee club, Kurt! You said so yourself!"

"He used to _say_ that, sure," explained Kurt. "Personally, I think he always secretly wanted to join but didn't dare. He saw what it did to Finn's reputation and couldn't risk the same thing happening to him."

"Then he's a coward," sniffed Blaine.

"No, he had every reason to be afraid," insisted Kurt. "Everything he feared happening came to pass. And he had to stifle his desires _every_ _single_ _day_ to prevent those fears coming to fruition. And in the end, it was all for nothing," he grunted. "All because of the _prick_ who outed him."

"Well, he seems just fine now," observed Blaine haughtily.

"After how long being utterly miserable?" rebuked Kurt. "He's suffered enough. I'm glad I was there for him over the summer. He really needed a friend. Remember, he tried to kill himself only weeks ago."

"He's certainly milked that for every drop," muttered Blaine under his breath.

It was still loud enough for Kurt to hear - and he was stunned at Blaine's attitude. "Are you high?" he spat in annoyance. "He was embarrassed about the whole thing, he wants to put it behind him. He's never played the sympathy card, it's not his style!"

Blaine remained sullen. It seemed like no matter what he said about Karofsky, Kurt had a counterpoint. Like he was taking sides.

Like Blaine was losing him.

It took a moment for Kurt to see it, but when it occurred to him he almost felt bad for his sweetheart. "You're scared you're going to lose me to him, aren't you?" he probed.

Blaine's sullenness gave way to a look of resignation. "Can you blame me?" he sighed despondently. "You seem to spend so much time around him, and you're always defending him."

"Friends do that, sweetie," smiled Kurt reassuringly. "The only way you're going to ever lose me is by pushing me away." He grinned. "And I'd much rather you pulled me closer," he added playfully.

Blaine smiled despite his annoyance over the whole Karofsky issue. How could he stay mad when Kurt was being this... _adorable?_ It was clear to him now that mentioning Karofsky wasn't going to help matters. In fact, it only served to make Kurt think of him _more_, and that was the last thing he wanted. He decided to avoid the topic from now on, and concentrate on his sweet, beautiful Kurt. Eventually, Karofsky was bound to make the wrong move and wreck the friendship, and then he'd have no more distractions between him and Kurt.

It certainly seemed a better plan than anything else he'd come up with lately.

* * *

><p>The atmosphere at Sectionals was electrifying. Dave had expected it to be like the locker rooms before a game, but it was different - the adrenaline was there, but it didn't excite him. It scared the ever-loving <em>crap<em> out of him. You could put a foot wrong in the game and still recover. Out on stage, one wrong move, duff note or fluffed line could ruin it all.

He tried to remember his rehearsals. He'd perfected the routine. That had to be worth something. Finn saw his friend's expression and recognized the sense of blind terror he'd felt at his first Sectionals. "Dude!" he smiled, making his way over. "You're freaking out, aren't you?"

"That obvious?" asked Dave, the nerves clearly evident in his tone.

"I've totally been here before," enthused Finn. "I know what you're going through, remember?"

Dave considered the point. He _must_ have been. And he'd have been through it a few times since. Didn't they perform at Nationals last year? He seemed to remember something about a kiss ruining things, but he was a little light on details. In the aftermath of junior prom, he was keeping a low profile and focusing too much on damage limitation for anything about glee club to register. "How did you cope?" he asked. "Wasn't it weird performing in front of a crowd? It's not like a football match - everyone's gonna be staring right at us, it's... it's fuckin' terrifying. They're all waiting for us to put a foot wrong."

"They don't wanna see a car crash, dude," reassured Finn. "They want to see something awesome as much as we want to deliver it. They're kinda on our side."

_That_ _makes_ _the_ _audience_ _our_ _supporters. And_ _there_ _won_'_t_ _be_ _half_ _the_ _crowd_ _against_ _us_ _the_ _way_ _there_'_d_ _be_ _at_ _a_ _game._ Dave was carefully reconsidering the situation, and realized the worst they'd face out there is indifference. "Dude, you're right," smiled Dave. "I have to remember that." Finn smiled back and clapped him on the shoulder before heading off to Rachel.

Dave went back to going over his lyrics, but was interrupted. "Haven't you got those memorized yet?" sighed someone over his shoulder.

Oh, of course. _Blaine._ "It's keeping me from panicking," explained Dave. "It's kinda therapeutic."

"You'd better not screw this up, Karofsky," warned Blaine.

"Dude, you're not exactly helping my nerves here," gulped Dave.

"I knew it!" snapped Blaine. "There's no way you're ready for this! I'm gonna go ask Mr Schue if I can step in."

"Hey!" barked Dave. "I _never_ said I wasn't ready."

"You don't have to!" retorted Blaine. "It's obvious!"

The argument had sparked the curiosity of the group and some of them were listening in. At this accusation, however, a few of them bridled. Finn and Puck, in particular, were looking forward to backing up Dave with their rap segment. "Dude, are you attacking one of _our_ _own_ _team?_" asked Puck incredulously.

"He's not ready!" insisted Blaine. "He's gonna ruin this for all of us."

"Bullshit!" rebutted Puck. "He's been razor sharp all through the rehearsals!"

"What the hell are you playing at, Blaine?" snapped Artie. "Are you _deliberately_ trying to sabotage the group after all the work we've put in?"

"Guys, what's going on here?" demanded Mr Schue, wading in to settle everyone down.

"Karofsky's not ready, Mr Schue," urged Blaine. "I'm ready to step in and take over his lead for the good of the group."

"Fuck you, Eyebrows!" barked Santana furiously. "You're trying to wreck Dave's nerves so you can grab the solo for yourself!"

"HOLD IT!" shouted Mr Schue. Everyone fell silent, but Blaine and Santana had locked eyes furiously. Kurt looked on in shock - was he really trying to take Dave out just so he could be the star of the show? Surely even he wouldn't go to those extremes?

"Dave?" asked Mr Schue calmly. "Are you okay to go through with this?"

Ironically, the threat of the lead being taken off him had somehow _steeled_ his resolve. His nerves had vanished, and he found himself eager to go out and perform. "Totally," he replied, a fierce gleam in his eyes. "I _want_ this. I'm ready."

Kurt took the opportunity to perk up Dave's ego. "You better be," he smirked. "I'd hate to go out there and _upstage_ you," he grinned mischievously.

It was the perfect tonic. "Chance'll be a fine thing," he grinned back. "I'll try not to _overshadow_ you." Kurt chuckled at Dave's sass. He loved that about him.

Mr Schue was satisfied. Dave seemed totally at ease. "In that case, I think we're good to go," he smiled. "Break a leg, everyone!" he called to the group as he left them to their final preparations.

Kurt took a moment to pull Dave aside for one last word of advice. "Don't worry about the crowd," he advised. "Just get into the performance and it all melts away. It's like they're not even there."

"I'll bear that in mind," nodded Dave hopefully.

* * *

><p>In the end, the whole thing was a blur. A whirlwind journey through adrenaline and dopamine surges that barely seemed to have grazed his memory in the immediate aftermath, but came back to him piece by piece as he adapted to the post-performance buzz. It was nothing like a touchdown.<p>

It was more like the feeling from winning the game.

_Tell_ '_em_ _that_ _it_'_s_ _human_ _nature_

Santana practically threw herself into his arms in excitement. "You were awesome out there!" she squealed frenziedly. "We've got this in the bag, Davey, I know it!"

"Jesus, Tana, don't jinx it!" chuckled Dave, still grinning like an idiot.

"God, you loved it out there, didn't you?" she smiled back, her mood softening at Dave's ferocious and infectious enthusiasm.

"I had no idea it'd be so... so fuckin' _awesome_," he breathed.

"I'm thrilled for you, Davey," she grinned. She meant it: she'd seen Dave go through quite a low over their time together as the Bully Whips, and seeing him this happy delighted her.

"Thanks Tana," he grinned back, wrapping an arm around her. "Man, I hope we win."

_Mo_' _money, mo_' _money_ _(Kurt_ _and_ _David, here_ _we_ _go)  
><em>_Mo_' _money, mo_' _money_ _(New_ _Directions, here_ _we_ _go)_

"Way to go, boys!" shouted Finn, Puck and Artie as they offered up fist bumps and high-fives to Dave and Kurt as they relived their duet.

"Man, I could do that every day for the rest of my life!" cackled Dave.

"Wow, Regionals can't come soon enough for you can it?" grinned Kurt.

"God, you too?" gasped Dave. "Stop jinxing it already!" he giggled.

"That rap kicked ass!" enthused Artie. "We _ruled_ that stage! I could totally do that again."

"I could go for an encore myself," chuckled Dave.

_Now_ _that_ _I_'_ve_ _discovered_ _what_ _you_ _mean_ _to_ _me_

"Hey there Luther," cooed Mercedes playfully.

"Hey 'Cedes," grinned Dave. "Wicked vocals out there."

"Man, we were all perfect out there," she sighed blissfully. "Best. Sectionals. _Ever_."

"How's our resident crooner?" chirped Rachel as she practically skipped toward them.

"Still buzzin', I imagine," smirked Mercedes. "You come down off the thrill of the show yet?"

"Yeah, maybe give me a few hours," giggled Dave.

Mercedes and Rachel both chuckled. They knew _that_ feeling well enough. "Man, by rights I should be out of breath," noted Mercedes contentedly. "Davey, I'm glad Finn suggested the PT thing - if he hadn't been workin' out with you, he wouldn't have come up with it and we'd all have keeled over out there," she chuckled.

"Thank Rachel!" replied Dave. "If she hadn't talked me into working out my body issues by taking my top off in front of her, she wouldn't have been all 'wow, beefcake', asked Finn to beef up and he wouldn't have asked me to help him with it!"

Mercedes' jaw dropped. "You did _what_ now?" she spluttered to Rachel.

"I still say you're wearing way too much!" insisted Rachel impishly. "At least show us the arms!"

"Hmm..." Dave paused. "How about _no?_" he replied finally, grinning broadly. Mercedes stifled a chuckle.

Rachel sighed. "Stupid sexy Luther," she grunted.

Both Dave and Mercedes almost fell out of their seats laughing.

_It's_ _time_ _to_ _give_ _a_ _damn, lets_ _work_ _together_ _(c'mon_ _now)_

The time seemed to fly by before the results were due to be read out. They all stood together, Dave feeling more part of a unit there on stage awaiting the outcome of the vote than he ever remembered feeling while on the football team. He still missed the game, but this was something else entirely. Not better or worse, just... different. Awesome, but different.

"In third place... the East Lima Octavians!"

The two remaining groups applauded politely, but each group was eager to find out if they'd done enough to make it to Regionals. The Unitards, also from Ohio but hailing from Defiance, had put on a damned impressive performance, and Harmony, their lead performer, reminded a few of the McKinley crew just a little too much of a younger Rachel. Except more ambitious. And confident.

As if Rachel in her overzealous heyday hadn't been scary enough.

Dave found himself willing fate, luck, destiny, _whatever_ to cut them a break and give them the win, as his mind swam with the vocals from their finale.

_Strength_ _in_ _numbers, we_ _can_ _get_ _it_ _right, one_ _time_

"And in second place..."

_Jesus. The_ _**tension**__. This_ _never_ _happened_ _in_ _football... well, maybe_ _unless_ _you're_ _the_ _kicker..._

"...all the way from Defiance, the Unitards!" A cheer erupted from the auditorium, and Dave let out a huge sigh of relief as the sound of cheering and whooping surrounded him. "Which means this year's Sectionals winners, from McKinley high school in Lima, are the New Directions!" The cheering redoubled, and Dave found himself wrapped up in a hug.

Kurt? "I'm so proud of you!" he squealed. Dave instinctively hugged him back.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Kurt," grinned Dave, feeling giddy as the thrill of the victory began to kick in.

Everything else was a blur of hugs and celebration, but in that moment Dave felt more a member of New Directions than he ever had. He felt like belonged with them.

As if he always had, and had never known.

_We are a part of a rhythm nation._

* * *

><p>The group had celebrated their victory at Breadstix in the absence of anywhere more compelling, but the venue was incidental: they were all buzzing from their combined success. Blaine's apparent attempted coup had also been forgotten, but his personal satisfaction from the win was muted by what he considered the small part he played in it.<p>

Kurt noticed, and decided they needed some time alone. As the rest of the group headed to the Berrys to wind down - and share their celebration with Hiram and Leroy who had been there to watch Rachel and Dave's performances - Kurt took Blaine home with him so they could have a little privacy. And make out, obviously.

"Oh, Blaine... this day just couldn't be any better," hummed Kurt contentedly, both of them entwined upon Kurt's bed. "A Sectionals victory, celebrations with friends, private time with you... I'm so happy right now," he sighed.

"You were amazing out there," smiled Blaine. "Part of me still wishes we could have done that duet together, but hey," he shrugged. "There's always Regionals."

Eventually, and inevitably, Kurt's Diet Coke habit brought a temporary halt to things as his anatomy asserted itself uncomfortably. "..._ngrk,_" he grunted as his bladder shouted out a warning.

"What's up, babe?" asked Blaine.

"Too many sodas," grunted Kurt in annoyance.

Blaine chuckled. "Go take care of that," he smiled. "I'll be right here." Kurt didn't need telling twice: he hopped up nimbly and fled to the bathroom. Blaine looked around the room, going over the day and inwardly kicking himself for his silly attempt to wrest the lead from Dave. As much as he might want to pretend he wasn't thinking it at the time, he was aiming to take Dave's role. But still, it was _Kurt_. His _boyfriend_. Surely nobody would blame him for wanting to perform alongside him at Sectionals?

He shrugged it off. It was over now, in any case. And they did win, after all. That'd be something good to add to Kurt's NYADA application, for sure. Blaine checked around the room for the application papers. He stumbled across a stack of folded sheets on Kurt's desk, and figured they were it.

They weren't - and Blaine was alarmed to discover what was clearly a suicide note written to Kurt. Dave's note.

As he read further, his alarm became horror as he reached the sign-off Dave had chosen.

_All_ _my_ _love,  
><em>_Sassy_ _Gay_ _Dave  
><em>_xxx_

Why would Kurt have kept this? It was over a month ago. Dave was over his issues now. There was no point in dredging things up, and... no, screw all of it. _Dave_ _loved_ _Kurt._ He was _right_ to be wary this whole time, he just _knew_ something like this was going to happen.

And Kurt had kept the letter? _Why?_ What the hell purpose could that ever accomplish? What did it mean to him?

_...what_ _did_ _**Dave**_ _mean_ _to_ _him?_

The thought appalled Blaine. He shuddered to think what kind of hold Dave had over Kurt. What sort of mind game was he playing here? He had to do something to put this to an end, but if he intervened directly he'd risk ruining things with Kurt. His mood darkened at the mess he seemed to be in. After all of his efforts, it had come down to _this_.

He needed to go home. He placed the folded letter back where he found it, and headed toward the door. Kurt almost bumped into him, and noticed his expression. "What's up, babe?" he asked innocently.

"I should probably go," explained Blaine, eager to get out as quick as he could. "It's getting kinda late."

Kurt's face fell. "Oh," he replied timidly. "I was hoping you'd be able to stay a little longer."

Blaine was insistent. "Maybe soon, okay?" he suggested. "I'll see myself out. See you on Monday, babe," he added, savoring one last lingering kiss before heading downstairs.

Kurt stood in the doorway, shellshocked. _What_ _the_ _hell?_

Blaine made his way out of the house, saying his goodbyes to Burt and Carole before leaving. He sat in his car, his mind racing with possibilities and replaying all of the time Kurt and Dave had spent together. Doing what, exactly?

He had to get them apart somehow.

He loved Kurt too much to let him slip through his fingers so easily.

* * *

><p><em>AN:  
><em>_Did I mention I was a sucker for an angsty cliffhanger? :o)__ Oh, but why do I do this to my poor Kurtsie? Mind you, he gets worse treatment on the show - I'm surprised they even allowed him finalist status at NYADA. :P  
>Oh, and apols for all my fellow pirates for Klaining all over this chapter. It just felt more believable. (I write half-decent Klaine? WTF is wrong with me?)<br>__-Lemm_


	12. Maybe You'll Feel It Too

_**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: Maybe You'll Feel It Too  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks again dude!)  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T (for language)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives, lashings of innuendo  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 10,500 (um. It'll fly by, I promise.)  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: changes of heart abound as Dave regains one friend... and loses another._

_A/N: I know, I know, I said I'd never go over 10,000 words in a chapter and I've managed to bust out 10,500 here. But it's totally worth it. Honest. =)_

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chapter 12: Maybe You'll Feel It Too<em>**

Azimio had to admit - Hummel... no, not Hummel. _Kurt_ had really delivered on his promise to educate him. When he looked at Kurt or his weird midget boyfriend in the corridor, he found himself thinking "I wonder what his boyfriend thinks of him helping out DK so much", or "why's he going out of his way to help him like this?". Without Kurt's help, he'd probably be thinking something as basic and blinkered as "those two homos better not put on a display, I don't wanna see that shit".

He'd changed. Kurt had really followed through on his plan to gently coax him beyond his issues. Still, he had no idea if he could really be a friend to Dave - and Dave deserved nothing less than that. If he couldn't give him that, he'd be short-changing him.

The crazy thing was, Dave did seem happy. Really happy. Well... until they happened to make eye contact. Azimio still couldn't look him in the eye after letting his issues get the better of him.

Almost on cue, he noticed Dave merrily making his way down the corridor. Their eyes met again - and, almost instinctively, Azimio looked away. This time, however, he checked himself. He took a moment, and glanced back.

Dave looked miserable.

Azimio had done that to him. In just a second or two, he'd done that to him. He was still hurting Dave, just by looking away. And how many times had he done that recently? It wasn't just that, either - Dave had been happy, and all it took to knock his feet from under him was to _look away_. Like he was ashamed.

Well, he _was_ ashamed. His past behavior had been disgusting. He could at least have _tried_ to stand up for Dave in the locker room. He had every right to be ashamed of that. Did Dave still blame him? Or maybe Dave thought he was ashamed of _him_? Which would be hugely fucked up, to put it mildly.

But still, if that's what Dave was taking away from every single time they caught each others' eye and Azimio turned away or looked down or _whatever_, then... shit. Then _what_? How the fuck could he even fix this?

The frustration was almost too much to bear. He needed to punch something. Just as well he had a free period. He headed to the gym.

The punching bag there wouldn't give him any answers, but it'd help wear down his anger.

* * *

><p>Even there, however, he couldn't escape his troubles. As he vented his impotent rage on the punching bag, Shane appeared. The two had bonded a little over Azimio's defense of Dave in the locker room lately, and Shane could see he was trying to be a better person for his friend.<p>

He could also see he needed a bit of a push.

"You been treatin' Dave pretty harshly through this whole mess, you know that?" he challenged Azimio as he took a seat on a nearby bench.

Azimio would have thumped him if it hadn't been Shane. "_What?_" he barked, as though struck by a branding iron. "I had to hear from _Finn_ about him tryin' to kill himself!" he shouted bitterly, laying ever more angrily into the punching bag.

"An' how d'you think he ended up in that state?" demanded Shane.

Azimio refused to accept responsibility for the bullying. He hadn't taken part in it, and wouldn't have the blame laid at his feet. "Not me! I didn't do a thing, man!" he snapped defensively.

Shane had him right where he needed him. He hadn't picked on Dave, but he'd hardly _helped_ much. "Damn straight. You did _nothin'_," replied Shane pointedly. "Meanwhile, he's takin' crap from all sides. His folks throw him out, you turn yo' back. The puckheads pick on him, you ignore it. That whole Davina stunt on Facebook? You di'nt even get in touch to say you weren't part of it." With every point, Azimio's guilt rose ever closer to the surface.

"You ain't lifted a finger."

Shane's final judgment knocked the fight out of Azimio. The punching bag swung in place as his arms dropped to his sides. "He deserves better people than me around him right now," he explained tremulously, fighting to stabilize his emotions. "I was stayin outta his _way_. I was the last person he'd have wanted to see," he pleaded.

"What makes you so sure?" insisted Shane.

"Cos when I went to see him in hospital, I was told he'd specifically asked them to stop me gettin' in to see him," choked Azimio. It was a particularly hard memory to relive, and it pushed him perilously close to tears.

This caught Shane by surprise; he hadn't known that. "Fo' real?" he drawled in amazement.

"Hell yeah," argued Azimio. "I had to go to _Hummel_ to find out how he was. I had to _beg_ for details!" he explained hoarsely.

"And what did you say to Dave?" asked Shane. The tone of accusation had left his voice; it had become clear to him now that Azimio had been hurting over this much more than he'd imagined.

"I couldn't," replied Azimio quietly, slumping down on the bench beside Shane. "I figured Dave wouldn't wanna see me right now and I should give him space and get over my issues. That's what I've been doin'."

Shane decided to give one last push to see if Azimio had really put his issues behind him. "Not that him bein' gay makes it easy to stay away or nothin', right?" he noted accusingly, aiming for the exposed nerve.

He hit it dead on: Azimio's stability finally cracked. "Fuck that shit, man, I don't care any more!" he bellowed, tormented by the accusation that he hadn't tried hard enough. "I just wanna know my boy Dave's okay," he croaked as a single tear escaped. He clenched his jaw in frustration; he wasn't going to turn into a blubbering wreck in front of fucking _Shane_.

Shane's jaw dropped - not just at Azimio's evident pain over the situation, but also at his description of Dave. "'My boy'?" he drawled in surprise.

Azimio was struggling to hold the tears back. "He's been my best friend for... man, I don't remember how long," he croaked. "I miss that, man."

Shane regarded his friend with a mixture of sympathy and growing respect. "You're really over this whole gay thing, huh?" he observed.

The notion caught Azimio off guard. "...man, when did that happen?" he drawled, shaken out of his anguish by the shock of the realization.

"When he started meanin' more to you than his sexuality did," smiled Shane. "Congratulations, man. You just got a little bit o' maturity," he grinned, clapping a hand on Azimio's shoulder.

Azimio smiled weakly at the compliment. It didn't fix things. "How's that gonna help get us talkin' again?" he asked.

Shane shrugged. "You'll find a way," he assured him. "And then maybe we can find a way to get him back on the team," he nodded, raising an eyebrow.

Azimio wasn't entirely convinced it'd be that easy. "That's gonna be a tough sell," he sighed.

Shane considered the situation. "I dunno," he pondered. "As much as it sucks he tried to off himself, I think it might have won him some sympathy. Some o' the guys realize how much he'd be missed 'round here," he theorized. "I think they're willin' to bring him back in."

Azimio was doubtful. "Even Carter and Strando?" he challenged.

"They can always _leave_, right?" shrugged Shane with a grin. "Both o' them together ain't worth one o' Dave."

Azimio returned the grin with a nod. "True dat," he chuckled.

"An' when it comes down to it," explained Shane, "he's always been Dave, right? An' if he's still basically just Dave, who cares if he's gay, straight, bi, half-woman or dresses as Pikachu in his spare time?"

The comparison threw Azimio for a loop. "...Pikachu?" he blurted, bewildered.

"First example I could think of," smirked Shane. "You didn't want me to say Princess Peach or Zelda, right?" he chuckled.

Azimio couldn't help but burst into laughter at the idea. "Man, there's somethin' I _never_ wanna see!" he chortled.

"But still," continued Shane. "Dave? Back on the team? Puttin' hands all over you like _every other guy on the field?_"

The phrase rang a distant bell in Azimio's memory. He'd heard that argument before. From... _oh. Right._ "...you already said that," he replied, recalling the moment Shane had defended Dave when he was first outed. "I remember now. Shit, you got a good point there," he nodded.

Shane rolled his eyes. "_Finally_, you come to yo' senses," he sighed.

Azimio nodded, embarrassed it had taken him even this long. "I'll see if I can get Dave to even talk to me an' see where we go from there," he decided.

"First step, man," nodded Shane supportively. "Do it."

Azimio nodded back, his resolve strengthened. He needed to break the ice somehow. Well, that and find Dave...

* * *

><p>As it turned out, they didn't cross paths again until his free period was over; Dave had been in one of those advanced classes he took - and how big a shock had <em>that<em> been when Azimio had figured out Dave was actually some kind of secret genius? - so he had to speak to him in between classes. He'd already been to his own locker and grabbed the stuff he needed for his next class, so all he needed to do was watch out for Dave.

Then he saw him. And stopped dead. How was he going to handle this? Dave's expression seemed pretty neutral, so it wasn't like he was mad or anything.

Dave caught his eye again. Azimio's nerves took hold and he looked away. Again.

_What the fuck? You dumbass! Just go up there and... I dunno, apologize or somethin'. Quit pussyin' out on this!_ Now Azimio was pissed - at himself. It just about broke him out of the attack of nerves, and he made his way over to Dave - who was now looking glum once again. As he approached, an idea took hold.

_Keep it simple._

As he reached Dave's locker, he raised a fist. Dave turned, and stared at it like a rabbit in headlights. What could _this_ mean? Kurt had noticed them from a distance, and was watching tensely to see how the situation unfolded.

Dave considered the fist for a moment, and suddenly it dawned on him.

He bumped the fist with his own. He had to fight the urge to grin. He'd just fist-bumped Azimio. After all this time, they were back.

"Took you long enough," trilled Dave airily.

Azimio shrugged. "You ain't heard of 'treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen'?" he grinned.

Dave played right along. "Oh Z, baby, I missed you so _baaaaad_," he squealed effeminately, his hand on his chest in an exaggerated expression of heartache.

Azimio burst out laughing at Dave's display. "Fuck you, man!" he cackled playfully. For them, that pretty much _was_ playful banter. In the distance, Kurt was fighting the urge the jump up and down in excitement - they weren't just talking, they were _laughing_ together. This was the big step forward he'd been hoping for all along.

Dave spread his arms in a broad shrug. "Take a number and stand in line," he grinned, deliberately misinterpreting Azimio's 'fuck you' literally. "Everybody wants them some Dave," he crowed. Not strictly true - Rachel was certainly struck by his physique, but it wasn't _her_ attention he wanted to capture.

Azimio retaliated in kind. "Oh, _really_? Even your Kurtsie?" he challenged with a wicked grin, remembering all too clearly from Dave's suicide note to him how Dave had described his feelings for Kurt as "a deep and powerful love that won't ever die until I do".

Dave groaned and rolled his eyes. Why did he write that? _Why?_ "Shit, you're gonna pick at that like a scab for weeks aren't you?" he sighed, shaking his head. Azimio smirked, nodding emphatically.

"Fuck," huffed Dave. "Is it too late to get out of being your friend?" he sighed, a trace of a smile on his face. They both knew he was kidding - and in fairness, Dave had really missed the banter with Azimio. It was fun with Kurt, but... eh. It just wasn't quite the same.

Azimio threw his head back and laughed at Dave's faux-plea to be liberated from the suddenly-inescapable grip of their rekindled bromance. Dave couldn't help but chuckle - yeah, he'd missed this a lot. A _fuck_ of a lot. "See you round, man," he grinned as he headed off to his next class.

Azimio suddenly remembered his plans for the weekend. "Hey, DK!" he called. "You up for a movie at the Hummels' this Friday? It's the big one," he noted.

Dave recalled Kurt's PFFLAG-in-depth regime of education he'd been putting Azimio and Finn through. It could only be one movie. "Whoa. Brokeback? Finally?" he guessed excitedly.

"Yep. Me, Finn and Kurt," confirmed Azimio. "Ask him if you can tag along."

Dave's eyes lit up. "Count on it!" he beamed. As he headed off to class, Kurt decided to grill Azimio for info and find out how he felt about the whole thing, and intercepted him as he made his way past.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he asked.

Azimio smiled. "Between you and Shane, I think I'm cool," he nodded. "Shane reminded me how DK had his hands all over me most of last year anyway, an' he ain't shown an interest in me the whole time."

"Good to hear," smiled Kurt. He paused as a visual flashed unbidden across his mind. Dave and Azimio in the locker room... _oh, no. No no nonononono __**no**__. Ew._ "Um... actually, _really_ good to hear," he spluttered, dispelling the image from his mind. "The last thing I need is to conjure up an image of you two, as they say, 'bumping uglies'."

Azimio bridled slightly at the suggestion that he wasn't sufficiently enticing to fantasize about. "Hey! I know I ain't all that, but I ain't deformed or nuthin'," he retorted.

"Yes, but... I don't think I could bear to picture you naked," winced Kurt.

Azimio took in Kurt's assertion that he wasn't going to be undressing him with his eyes any time soon. _Oh. Yeah, keep __**not**_ _doing that, dude._ "...I think I'm cool with that," he grinned.

"Hey, you should be fine with this!" shrugged Kurt merrily. "The two gay guys you hang out with? _Neither_ of 'em wanna make a move on you," he stated pointedly.

Azimio shook his head with a chuckle. Kurt had a way with words, all right. A _weird_ way. "Heh. You crazy, Fancy," he replied.

Kurt jolted slightly at the term _Fancy_. That was for someone else to use. "Hey!" he grunted. "Only Dave gets to call me that."

Azimio leaped on that one like a bloodhound. "Oh, _really_?" he drawled mockingly, grinning broadly.

Kurt felt his cheeks burning. _Oh, well done, Kurt. Leave yourself wide open, why don't you? _"It's... it's just a nickname," he stammered, "it's not like we have _pet_ names for each other or anything." _Pet names? __**Pet names?**_ _For the love of... Kurt, just stop talking. Just. Stop._

Azimio was already lapping it up. "Sure, Kurt, you keep tellin' yo'self that," he chuckled as he headed off to get to his next class. Kurt turned and delivered a forceful skunk-eye - to his back. He sighed and shook his head.

"For god's sake, I'm with _Blaine,_" he huffed exasperatedly.

* * *

><p>Dave met up with Azimio later and they finally caught up with each other. It had been long overdue; the two now had so much separate history they had almost <em>too much<em> to discuss. They covered Kurt's reeducation of Azimio, Dave's new-found appreciation of glee club and the thrill of Sectionals, Azimio's playful needling of Kurt...

"You're that cool with him?"

"Yeah, man," nodded Azimio. "Kurt's okay once you get to know him."

"You couldn't have figured that out last year?" smiled Dave ruefully.

"Well, _you_ didn't," noted Azimio smugly, "and you're supposed to be the brainiac."

"I was too busy trying to be the _straight guy_, remember?" sighed Dave.

Azimio nodded. "Well, at least you don't have to deal with any of that bullshit no more," he smiled.

"No kidding," smiled Dave. "Man, if I'd just come to terms with all this a year ago, it'd have saved me a whole world of misery," he sighed ruefully.

"True dat," grinned Azimio. "And I bet you still woulda joined glee club - you can deny it all you want," he smirked, "but you get off on all that singin' an' dancin' shit."

Dave grinned back and shrugged cordially. "It's like a fuckin' _drug_," he beamed. "The way the crowd cheered me and Kurt when we did the Luther/Janet duet, and the way we all danced like a fuckin' trained military unit for _Rhythm Nation_," he effused. "It was like all that time Beiste and I spent drilling them in the gym totally paid off."

This came as news to Azimio. Evidently, the glocks hadn't mentioned it to their Titan teammates. "Wait, you got them all workin' out?" he asked, astonished. "You were _trainin' them up_?"

"Well, yeah," nodded Dave. "I thought the other guys would have mentioned it. Beiste and I kinda went all Biggest Loser on 'em."

"Man, you two woulda been the most fucked up Bob and Jillian ever!" guffawed Azimio. "_Last chance workout, bitches!_" he growled in his best impersonation of Beiste.

Dave chuckled at the comparison. "No kidding," he grinned. "I'm really surprised Finn didn't say anything - I've been helping him in the gym for weeks already. He's trying to beef up a little for Rachel," he added with a chuckle.

Azimio suddenly understood what had changed with Finn lately. It was _something_, but he hadn't been able to put his finger on it. "I _knew_ there was somethin' different about him," he mused quietly to himself. He paused for thought. "I want in," he decided shortly.

Dave's eyebrows bounced upward. "What, working out with us?" he asked.

"Hell yeah," insisted Azimio. "If it's doin' that much for Finn, I'm all over that."

In the moment Dave took to consider it, it seemed like a great idea - Finn and Azimio had spent time together with Kurt anyway getting over their issues, so they'd probably be cool working out together under Dave's watch. "No problem, man," he grinned. "You're probably built up enough, so I'll work on your core and stamina."

"Sweet," nodded Azimio. "Lookin' forward to it, man."

"Don't speak too soon," grinned Dave. "Once we get in the gym, I can be pretty brutal."

Azimio shrugged. "Bring it on," he grinned.

* * *

><p>"He's gonna kick your ass the same way he kicks mine, dude. Just warning you."<p>

"I said it to him, an' now I'm sayin' it to you. _Bring. It. On._"

Kurt chuckled at Azimio's keenness to take a pounding from Dave. He could see why; Finn really _was_ looking a lot more shapely these days. If he didn't have Blaine, he'd probably be drooling. Still, his arms weren't nearly as big as Dave's. _Dear god, those arms. Too bad I won't be able to convince Blaine to join him in the gym._

"Much as I'm glad you're givin' all your attention to the other gay dude in the room," grinned Azimio, "I think your boyfriend might have words to say about that." Kurt's cheeks lit up once again as one of Dave's eyebrows made a break for orbit.

"There's... no harm in looking," insisted Kurt weakly, all but admitting he'd totally been busted ogling Dave. "Besides, he _does_ have nice arms," he continued. The compliment came out of the blue for Dave, and he found himself grinning like an idiot.

"Calm down, ladies," smirked Azimio. "We got a movie to watch, right?"

"Anyone else a little weirded out by this?" asked Finn, clearly uncomfortable about the movie, much to Kurt's disappointment. He'd thought Finn had made better progress than this. "I mean, the guy's dead now." With that simple observation, Kurt's opinion turned on a dime: it wasn't the fact that Heath Ledger was portraying a gay character so much as it was the fact that he'd died not all that long ago.

_Maybe I should give Finn a little more credit,_ he mused.

"How about a drinking game to take your mind off it?" suggested Dave cheerfully. "They kiss: drink. Any touch more intimate than a hug: drink. Any memorable quote: do a shot!" Kurt leaned back into the sofa and covered his face in dismay.

"You're turning one of the greatest romantic tragedies of our age into a fratboy goof-off," he groaned. "Ang Lee hates you _all_."

"Angly what?" asked Azimio. "Is that a math thing? Man, you been studyin' with DK _way_ too much!"

"Dude, that's the guy who directed it!" chuckled Dave. "Ang. Lee. He's actually pretty good, I've been reading up on the guy. He won an Oscar for this."

Kurt regarded Dave in surprise. He'd actually done his research on the movie. "I take it back," he gasped. "You're clearly taking this seriously." He paused. "So... why suggest a drinking game?" he sighed.

"Honestly?" explained Dave quietly to Kurt. "I'm willing to bet it'll strip away the bravado and make them _feel_ it more." Kurt pitched an eyebrow up at the notion, and a smile spread across his face.

"Cunning," he nodded. "I like it."

"What are you two up to over there?" asked Finn, suspicious at the discussion out of earshot.

"I was talking him into the drinking game," smiled Dave. "He's okay with it." Finn let out a gasp of amazement, and grinned to Dave.

"I'm not participating," insisted Kurt haughtily. The other three boys laughed as though the point was moot.

"Dude, if you did, you wouldn't be Kurt," chuckled Finn.

15 minutes in, Azimio was itching for the slightest show of intimacy between Jack and Ennis just for an excuse to grab himself some booze. Finally, as the two cowboys started pushing each other around in celebration after Ennis took down an elk, Azimio grabbed the opportunity with zeal.

"Man, they were all over each other!" spluttered Azimio. "Drink!" he whooped.

Dave guffawed incredulously. "Dude, no way. That's not even a _thing_," he insisted.

"You're trippin'," challenged Azimio, bottle already in hand. "Dude, they were all _hands_."

Dave paused the playback and tore down Azimio's argument. "Fuck, Z, you've done more than that to _me_ enough times," he rebuked. His playful side took over, and a grin spread across his face. "_Oh my god!_" he squealed. "Does that mean I'm your _boyfrieeeend?_" he invited in the best affectation of campness he could muster. It came as such a shock to everyone that Finn burst out laughing, Kurt dissolved into hysterics and Z was rendered momentarily speechless. And _really_ flustered.

Dave's grin endured, and he cocked an eyebrow up at his friend, almost daring him to either drink, get all _handsy_ with him or back down. Kurt and Finn were still laughing.

Azimio grunted in defeat. "Okay, I get it," he huffed. "No drink." Dave grinned and nodded. "And I'm totally not your fuckin' _boyfriend,_" stated Azimio gruffly, a trace of amusement entering his tone.

"It's totally true, guys," agreed Dave, laying on the camp once again, embellishing the point with a swish of his hand. "He's like, _so not_." Finn and Kurt's giggling picked up again, and Azimio punched Dave in the arm in annoyance. Dave was supposed to be the butt of _his_ jokes, dammit.

Dave paused for a moment in consideration. "...wait, does that mean 'drink' or not?" he asked finally, once again grinning from ear to ear, to more giggling from Finn and Kurt. Azimio found himself facepalming in dismay.

"Lets get back to the movie," huffed Azimio. Kurt smiled at the pair; Dave would only bust out the campness with someone he felt would be cool with it, and Azimio, while taken aback by Dave's teasing, was only grumbling because he was the butt of the joke rather than out of any sense of discomfort. They clearly mattered to each other enough now to look beyond their issues.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Dave's prediction of inebriation weakening the boys' emotional resolve had been spot on - and he, too, was feeling the effects of the alcohol. Ennis' tale about being shown the remains of the cowboy who was tortured to death was shocking enough, but the flashback scene, whether from Ennis' imagination or not, of Jack Twist being beaten to death by a group of men hit him hard. It wasn't just the violence - it was the way the two cowboys had struggled so hard to have what little they'd had together, and were ultimately ripped apart because of other people's attitudes.<p>

The unfolding of a gay bashing, alongside a love so cruelly destroyed by a world that didn't understand it, left Dave in ruins. Kurt, too, was emotional over the scene, and couldn't help but throw an arm over Dave's shoulders upon seeing the state he was in, and place his other hand around Dave's.

Finn and Azimio were similarly emotional about the scene, although to a far lesser degree and for different reasons. When they saw Jack being beaten, they imagined Dave in the scene, and they were both distressed at the notion. There were still places that such things could happen, and the scene of Jack's demise was a harsh reminder for them.

As they glanced toward Dave, tearful and shaken by Heath Ledger's portrayal of a man who had lost the one true love of his life, they both saw Kurt's arm around Dave, and his hand in Dave's hand, and it surprised them both how effortless the intimacy between the two boys was. They shared a knowing glance - was there more there than they were letting on? Maybe more than either of them realized? They knew Kurt was with Blaine, but what exactly did he feel for Dave?

He _had_ gone to a lot of effort to help him, after had volunteered to drop Dave and Azimio home: they were both far too inebriated to drive, and he felt safer giving Dave a lift back to the Berry household even though it was comparatively nearby. Dave had walked here, but there was no reason to make him _stagger_ back. As Kurt put the suggestion to Dave, Azimio had raised the topic of "Kurt and Dave" with Finn. As in, "Kurt _with_ Dave".

"I'm gonna suggest they go out on the town some time, just as friends," said Azimio. "There's somethin' there, man, I'm tellin' you."

Finn nodded. He saw it, even if Kurt didn't. But then, why would Kurt see it? He wasn't looking for that. Maybe he'd even subconsciously glossed over it because he was off the market? "I'm gonna talk it out with Kurt, too," agreed Finn. "There's totally something there, even I can see it. And I'm kinda dumb."

Yeah, Finn was drunk, for sure.

"Do _not_ mess this up, man," warned Azimio. "My boy Dave deserves a shot at this."

Finn's eyes popped wide open for a moment as he briefly misinterpreted Azimio's comment. "For a second there, I thought you were gonna say 'a shot at tapping that'," he explained, giggling.

Z winced at the idea. "Dude, don't give me that visual!" he whined.

Finn winced too, albeit in humorous fashion. "Eeeeew, gay sex," he drawled in the style of a child suggesting that "I don't like girls, they're icky", before resuming his giggling.

Yep. Totally drunk.

"Thank god we didn't see their junk in that tent scene," smirked Azimio. They paused to consider the thought, and both boys started chuckling drunkenly.

Yeah, Z was pretty wasted too. Kurt felt like he'd invited a Beavis and Butthead tribute act to his home. "I think they're turning into neanderthals again," he sighed to Dave, rolling his eyes.

"Nah, they're just being _boys_ with each other," reassured Dave. "They're cool with me, and they're cool with you. I call that progress," he affirmed.

Kurt considered the assertion. Dave _did_ have a point, to be fair. "Well said," he nodded with a smile. "I think my work here is done."

Dave nodded back. "Yeah. You've totally rehalib... no, wait. Shit," he burbled, the alcohol dissolving his usual eloquence. His tenacity refused to let go of the word. He tried again. "You've totally relabib... fuck," he grunted in annoyance.

"Not so _polysyllabic_, suddenly?" chuckled Kurt, basking in the smugness of beating Dave on his own turf.

"No, fuck it, I can do this!" insisted Dave, trying to focus. "You've totally... _re... ha... bilitated_ them! There, I did it," he beamed, both proud of himself for finally getting the word and relieved the damn thing was out of the way.

Kurt placed a condescending hand upon Dave's shoulder. "I'm so proud," he drawled, as though congratulating a child on finally tying his shoelaces unaided.

Dave sneered at Kurt. "Huh," he shrugged. "Bet you couldn't handle something that big when _you're_ drunk." Kurt's eyes flew wide open as the unintended, and pretty obvious, double entendre... which Dave picked up on a second or two later.

The giggling fit that took them confirmed that Kurt was very much capable of thinking filthy thoughts just as easily and readily as Dave.

"Too many punchlines!" cackled Kurt breathlessly.

"Jesus, where do I start?" gasped Dave, leaning on the arm of the sofa to steady himself as he regained his composure.

Finn only caught the tail end of their conversation. "...I don't even wanna know," he uttered nervously.

"Fuck, I'm getting a lift back home with those two," whined Azimio to Finn. "Save me, man."

Kurt beckoned Azimio toward him with his finger. "Sorry, Azimio, your darling Finn can't save you now," he teased mirthfully.

Z gaped at Kurt's turn of phrase. "...the fuck's everybody tryin' to pair me off with a dude?" he mumbled in bewilderment. "I ain't, like... homo... erectus, or whatever," he insisted, wildly grappling for the term _homoerotic_ and missing by a margin just narrow enough to understand, yet wide enough to hit another hilariously innuendo-laden term.

"Aaaaand we're back to Neanderthals," chuckled Kurt, eliciting a guffaw from Dave. "Come on, _Homo Eroticus_," he grinned to Azimio, "time to get you boys home."

Finn's brain instantly turned scumbag and misinterpreted the phrase. With matching imagery. "Dude! Bad visual!" he wailed.

Kurt's mind chose to turn on _him_ as if in sympathy, and flashed him a visual of... _oh god, not again._ "Shit," he whined. "Why do I _do_ this to myself?"

Z grinned at Kurt's evident discomfort, and decided to pay him back. "I thought you said you _di'nt_ wanna think of me an' Dave ...what was it, you said? _Bumpin' uglies?_" he queried mischievously.

Dave burst out laughing not just at the phrase, but at the notion that it had _ever_ left Kurt's lips. "Oh, fuck me, that's _priceless_!" he howled.

Kurt's shoulders sagged. Suddenly _he_ was the butt of the jokes again. "Oh, shut up and get out to the car," he huffed.

Dave and Azimio headed out to Kurt's car, still giggling, and climbed into the back seats. Azimio wasn't done yet, however. "Man, it's a good thing you never saw us together in the locker room, all _nekkid_ and stuff," he teased.

Dave just about caught sight of Kurt wincing as he headed toward the Berry household to drop him off, and decided this could be fun. "Hell yeah," he joined in. "All those times we were in there alone, all _hot_ and _steamy_..." he grinned.

"The two of us showerin' together, gettin' all frothed up..." continued Azimio. Kurt's teeth clenched.

"Our big muscular bodies slick with shower gel..." elaborated Dave. Kurt shot them both a brief venomous look in the rear view mirror.

"The hot water rolling off every curve..."

"Pourin' over our bare asses, and tricklin' down our big muscular thighs..." Dave's grin was evident in his tone of voice.

"I swear to god," grunted Kurt sharply, "if you don't stop I will _crash the fucking car out of spite._"

Dave started giggling, unable to hold back his amusement any longer. Azimio, too, started giggling with Dave. "Never happen, Kurt," rebuked Dave once the giggles had passed. "You love your Escalade _way_ too much to total it just to teach us a lesson."

"Man, yo' trippin'," argued Azimio. "This is a Navigator."

Dave refused to take his word for it. "What? Dude, I'm tellin' you, it's an Escalade! Kurt, tell him," he urged.

"It's a Navigator, man! You blind?" insisted Azimio.

Kurt smirked deviously to them both in the mirror. "Just to get back at you both, I'm not telling either of you," he taunted them. "Deal with it."

Within minutes they'd arrived at the Berrys'. Kurt hopped out to say goodnight to Dave, who'd climbed out of the back. "Thanks for tonight, Kurt," smiled Dave. "It was awesome. You're the best."

Kurt smiled warmly back at Dave. "That's the booze talking," he noted with a raised eyebrow.

"You and I both know it's _something else_ doing that," reminded Dave with a wry smile.

Kurt's smile endured as let let out a wistful sigh. "Take care, Dave," he whispered as they hugged. "And don't go to bed without drinking some water," he urged Dave as they let each other go. "I don't want you to end up hungover tomorrow."

"Will do," nodded Dave, beaming. "See you soon, Kurt." Kurt nodded him toward the front door and offered one last wave goodnight before getting back in the car.

"Man, you really care about him, don't you?" observed Azimio.

Kurt couldn't help but admit it. "He's kinda like a big brother," he explained. "I like seeing him happy."

Azimio saw something entirely different between the two. "Big brother. Uh huh," he noted pointedly.

"What...?" Azimio's tone threw Kurt slightly. "Wait, what did _that_ mean?" he asked.

"You di'nt exactly seem _brotherly_ wrappin' yo' arms around him when Jack Twist bit it," explained Azimio.

Kurt recalled how deeply affected Dave had been. "You saw him, he was a wreck," he sighed. "I was merely comforting him. Besides, it helped me too - it was pretty harrowing," he admitted.

Azimio nodded. "True dat," he sighed. "Kept thinkin', that coulda been Dave."

Kurt thought for a moment, considering the jock's reaction. "It upset you, too, didn't it?" he ventured.

"Yeah," admitted Azimio, looking thoughtful. "It did."

Kurt smiled. Only a month or two ago, he never would have dared hope for such a reaction from him. "Azimio," he grinned, "I think you just graduated from PFFLAG."

Azimio paused to take in the compliment, and grinned back. "Heh. Been long enough comin'," he conceded.

"I'm really pleased Dave's got his best friend back," beamed Kurt.

"I'd say he's got _two_ best friends now," smiled Azimio in response. He saw an opening, and decided to raise the suggestion. "Man, you two should hang out sometime," he suggested. "Like, go out somewhere."

Kurt misunderstood Azimio's implications. "What? Azimio, I'm with Blaine!" he rebuked.

"I know that, man!" retreated Azimio. "I mean, like, as friends. You could... I dunno, go to a gay bar or somethin'," he invited. "Blow off some steam, drink to how well things are goin' for him recently, stuff like that."

"A bar?" scoffed Kurt. "Huh, I'm not old enough to get _into_ a bar, much less drink."

Azimio's shoulders sagged as he sighed in dismay. "You ain't ever heard of fake ID?" he retorted, a trace of mockery in his tone. Was Kurt really _that_ sheltered?

"And where am I going to get that?" shrugged Kurt.

"Well, _duh_," rebutted Azimio, gesturing to himself.

Kurt chuckled and shook his head. "You are a _terrible_ influence," he grinned.

"That a yes?"

Kurt considered the idea, and decided... _what the hell, sounds like fun._ "Screw it, why not?" he replied brightly. "Dave deserves to celebrate! Our Sectionals victory, your rekindled friendship..."

"An' we _are_ gonna get him back on the team," insisted Azimio.

This shouldn't have come so out of the blue to Kurt as it did, but he hadn't dared get his hopes up. "Oh my god, really?" he gasped excitedly. It was almost a squeal.

"Dude belongs there," shrugged Azimio. "Fuck the whole gay thing, he kicks ass on the field."

"Oh, Azimio, he's going to be _thrilled_!" squealed Kurt in delight. "I'll mention it to Finn when I get home - think he'll be on board?"

"Bet yo' ass, man," confirmed Azimio.

"Eloquently put," guffawed Kurt. "And I believe this is your stop," he noted as they pulled up outside the Adams house. They got out of the car to say their goodbyes, and Kurt reached out a hand to shake.

Azimio scoffed mildly at the gesture. He was in a far more tactile mood. "Screw dat, c'mere," he invited as he pulled Kurt into a hug. Kurt yelped slightly at the unexpected embrace, but responded in kind.

"You done a helluva lot for DK, man. He owes you."

"Oh, not at all," insisted Kurt. "I'm just glad I was there for him."

They backed out of the hug. "Hm. 'Just brotherly', you say. _Ri-i-i-ight,_" nodded Azimio with a smirk.

Kurt's eyes rolled like ball bearings. "Azimio, _drop this,_" he sighed. "I know how Dave feels about me, and he knows I'm with someone else. It's not happening."

"Your call, man. Your call," smiled Azimio. Kurt chuckled inwardly - clearly Azimio just wasn't going to be told, and he decided not to push the point. They said their farewells and Kurt headed home.

Even there, however, it was clear the notion of a Kurt/Dave pairing had clear and unyielding support. "He'd be really good for you, y'know," observed Finn. Subtlety was never his strong suit, and when he was inebriated it was not so much a suit as it was a threadbare vest.

Kurt sighed. _Yes, and the square root of four is rainbows._ "I'm sure Blaine will be thrilled to know, thanks," he drawled sardonically.

"Dude, I'm serious," insisted Finn. "You two look awes'm together." The mild slurring wasn't helping his argument.

"_Dude,_ you're drunk."

"Doesn' mean I can't see what's right in frunna me."

"Less compelling when there's a chance you see it in _double_."

"You were all over Dave earlier!"

"I put _one arm_ around him! It was totally platonic."

"C'mon, it's not the same when you're so tac... tac... wha's that word that means touchy-feely?"

"Tachyon," lied Kurt. Suddenly those word games with Dave were about to come in useful.

"Yeah! You're totally tachyon," insisted Finn. Kurt smirked - and the penny suddenly dropped. "Wait, that's not the word!" he disputed, raising his voice slightly. He tried again. "Tac... tac..."

"Textile!" nodded Kurt, trying to shake off the smirk.

"Yeah! You're really tex... no! Dammit Kurt, stoppit!" he burbled. "Tac... tac... _TACTILE!_" he hollered excitedly, proud of himself for remembering the word himself. Kurt's hand flew up to the side of his head to protect him from the auditory barrage.

"Jesus, my ear!" he winced. "I may never have perfect pitch again."

"Maybe you can get _Da-a-a-a-ve_ to help with that," teased Finn. "Maybe he can _si-i-i-ng_ to you."

"Oh, get bent," huffed Kurt. "For the last time, _Dave and I are not getting together_. Even if I was single, it'd be weird, it'd be like dating my brother."

"Cos obviously, dating your stepbrother, that'd be totally fine," observed Finn, just a little conceitedly.

"You and I both know that was different," argued Kurt.

"Yeah, totally," shrugged Finn. "He's _gay_, I'm not."

"Oh, for god's sake," grunted Kurt. "With you, it was a boyhood crush built out of _nothing_. With Dave, it's a strong friendship on the foundations of _actually getting to know each other_."

"That could totally turn into a relationship," persisted Finn.

"Says you," replied Kurt dismissively. "It's late, I'm off to bed. And you really need to get over this... this... god, what would you even call us? Kave? Durt? No thanks!"

"How about Kurtofsky?" giggled Finn. "Cos, y'know, everyone used to call him by his surname."

"Oh, and what are Blaine and I?" he replied facetiously. "Blurt?"

"Nah," Finn replied. "You're... _Klaine_," he added, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Oh, _joy_," drawled Kurt irritatedly. "I get a whole _letter_ to myself."

"You'd have your whole _name_ if you were with Dave," noted Finn.

"Enough!" snapped Kurt. "I wish I'd never raised the subject. _Goodnight_, Finn," he huffed as he headed off to bed with Finn grinning at his back the whole way.

* * *

><p>Kurt had to give Azimio credit; he'd come through like a champ with the fake IDs. He'd tried to dress a little older, as he looked too young to even be in senior year, much less a bar, and he'd briefly considered a mustache before writing off the mere contemplation of the idea as a moment of insanity.<p>

He and Dave, as it turned out, had nothing to worry about. They both got into the implausibly-named _Scandals_ without a moment's pause. Dave ordered the drinks: a Coke for himself and a Long Island Iced Tea for Kurt. Neither of them really knew what was in the cocktail, and as Dave watched it being made up his jaw drooped ever downward - a measure each of vodka and tequila had been surprising enough, but the addition of a shot of white rum, triple sec and gin in turn left him momentarily musing the likelihood that he'd have to _carry_ Kurt back to the car.

He handed Kurt his drink. "It might have a bit of a kick to it," he warned. Kurt took a big slurp through the straw and let the flavor roll over his tongue before swallowing it down.

"Wow," he gasped.

"Bit strong?" asked Dave cautiously.

"It's _amazing!_" squealed Kurt. "Here, have some," he invited Dave.

"Nuh-uh," maintained Dave. "I'm driving us home."

"I still think we should both be drinking," persevered Kurt. "This celebration is more about you than it is me."

"And I can celebrate fine on soda with you here," smiled Dave. Kurt smiled back. "Besides," continued Dave, "I'd like to keep a clear head - this is your first night in a gay bar as well as mine, I don't want you getting into trouble on my watch."

"My hero," giggled Kurt playfully.

Before long, they'd both given into their love of dancing and hit the floor. Dave reined in the crazy shapes he'd thrown with Santana on prom night, but he still managed to bust some pretty decent moves. After a while, they resumed their seats and drinks to catch their breath and hydrate a little.

"Holy crap, you're good," chuckled Kurt.

"Really?" challenged Dave with a grin.

"God, yes," professed Kurt. "You got your moves on and pretty much owned _everyone else in this bar_." Dave knew that Kurt had to be tipsy by now, but a compliment was a compliment. He couldn't help but laugh at the plaudits Kurt was throwing his way.

Besides, it was Kurt. Kurt was saying really nice things about him. What part of that could ever be bad?

The dance floor proved to be quite a pull for both of them, and after they'd drained their drinks they were up and dancing once again. It had been far too long, thought Kurt, since he'd really cut loose and had some _fun_ for a change.

And Dave made a fantastic dance partner. He felt safe with him - while Dave was there, he was in no danger of any unwanted attention. Although, he noticed, he wasn't the only one turning heads: as cute as he might be, he could tell without trying that Dave was getting at least his fair share of attention.

"I don't know if you noticed," he mentioned to Dave once they'd retreated to the bar for a break, "but you seem to have a _lot_ of admirers."

"Who, me?" asked Dave dubiously. "I thought _you_ were the looker of the two of us."

"Oh, I might be this pretty little thing," shrugged Kurt as though it wasn't even a good point, "but you're young, cute, brawny... hell, it's no wonder they can't get enough of you," he grinned.

"Am I bringing sexy back?" joked Dave.

Kurt looked him up and down, the alcohol having loosened his inhibitions as well as his tongue. "I don't think it ever really went away," he smirked, slightly lasciviously.

Dave beamed at the compliment, and then realized exactly how Kurt had described him. "Hang on a second," he gaped. "Did you just call me _cute_?" Dave would have sworn up and down he'd misheard.

He hadn't - and Kurt clapped his hand over his mouth as though trying to stop himself saying it _again_. "Mmph," he squeaked ruefully. He slowly took his hand away and attempted to justify the description. "Well... it's not like saying it makes it true, if it already is," he reasoned. Badly.

"So you think it's _true_, rather than just _your opinion_?" grinned Dave. This was just getting better and better.

Kurt winced. "Maybe I should get my lips sewn shut before I come out with anything else," he lamented.

"Ah-ah," warned Dave, wagging his finger. "No takebacks!"

Kurt sighed. "That _again_?" he groaned.

"You bet!" grinned Dave. "There's no _way _I'm letting you take that back!"

Kurt grunted with a shrug. "Have it, it's yours," he chuckled in capitulation. Dave was delighted.

"Best night of my life, I swear to god," he gushed excitedly. It didn't take a genius to work out why, obviously, but the point was almost lost on Kurt as he was so intoxicated - not just by the alcohol, but by the thrill of just relaxing and having a good time with a close friend, doing something he'd never done before in a place he'd never been before.

Dave, of course, was exhilarated. He'd never dreamed of being this close to Kurt and having such fun with him, and even though it didn't mean they were together at least it was _something_. It was the kind of close-knit bond he'd longed for - they'd never been as close as this. When he'd told Kurt it was the best night of his life, he absolutely meant it. Nothing had matched this - the revelation of McKinley's anti-bullying program, all the post-match celebrations, the rush of winning Sectionals... no. This, right here, was the best he'd felt in years.

And it just seemed to keep improving: before long, the two boys heard an intro they both recognized.

"Single Ladies!" they yelped excitedly in unison. They made a bee-line for the dance floor once again, and Kurt found himself astonished by Dave's moves. _How the hell does he know the moves to this?_

"You know _this_ routine?" asked Kurt as they followed it together, matching each other move for move.

"I'll explain later," grinned Dave. Kurt nodded, grinning at the sight of Dave slapping his butt. A few others had joined in and were matching the moves pretty well, but Kurt and Dave stood out from the crowd: most of the patrons were whistling and cheering at the sight of these two _boys_ taking over the floor and putting on this _show_ for them.

If they'd doubted they were getting attention before, this certainly would have put those doubts to rest.

As the routine ended, Kurt swore he could hardly hear for the applause and cheering. Dave, too, was caught up in the moment, and picked Kurt up off the floor in a bear hug and spun him around, Kurt laughing giddily throughout.

As they retreated to the bar once more to the sound of whoops and cheering, Kurt's curiosity reached fever pitch. "C'mon!" he pleaded. "Tell me how you knew the moves!"

Dave grinned. "You're never gonna believe it," he chuckled.

"Tell me anyway!" barked Kurt impatiently.

Dave kept chuckling and shook his head. "It was Rachel," he admitted finally.

Kurt really didn't see how Rachel - of _all_ people - could fit into this equation. "Wait... what?" he spluttered in bewilderment.

"We got to talking about the dance routine during the run-up to Sectionals, and I ...may have suggested that I'm uh... a better dancer than her," he grinned.

"Rightly so," nodded Kurt.

Dave tried not to just start _grinning_ at Kurt's random compliments again. "So she challenged me to a dance-off, and she chose _this._ Personally, I think she just wanted to see me in a leotard," he smiled.

"Oh my god, you _dressed_ for it?" cried Kurt.

"Part of the challenge," shrugged Dave. "She even tried to get me to change _with her in the room_, too, under the guise of 'making sure I'm not cheating' or something pretty much that flimsy."

Kurt shrieked with laughter. "Oh god, that's _not_ Rachel!" he cackled incredulously.

"No kidding," grinned Dave. "Who'd have thought one look at my torso would turn her into Santana?"

"It's Rachel," replied Kurt. "I'm thinking 'Brittany'," he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Harsh, Kurt," winced Dave. "But fair, I guess," he chuckled shortly with a shrug.

"I should probably get to see what all the fuss is about at some point," smirked Kurt, eyeing Dave's figure inquisitively.

"Well, if you can't see it," suggested Dave, "you can at least feel it," he grinned, inviting Kurt into a hug. Kurt threw himself at the opportunity, flinging himself toward Dave and wrapping his arms tightly around him. He let out a contented hum as he lapped up Dave's warmth and shape, and the feel of Dave's arms holding him close. Normally, he'd be fretting about how he shouldn't be enjoying it all as much as he was, but the alcohol was quieting his better judgment. They pulled slightly apart to look each other in the eye, and Kurt found himself pondering Dave's happiness. He glanced at Dave's mouth a few times, basking in the smile he was wearing.

To Dave, it looked for all the world like an invitation, and, caught up in the moment and Kurt's apparent comfort at the intimacy, Dave pressed his lips to Kurt's.

That they kissed at all was an unexpected detour from their idea of a night out as friends.

That Kurt didn't pull away... that was more of a shock. Dave wondered if he should have kissed Kurt at all, but let the kiss continue on the basis of Kurt's complicity. Kurt, however, wasn't in his right mind, and the kiss felt so _good_ in that moment that he lapped it up.

Until a shaft of light peeked through the alcoholic haze.

He pulled away abruptly, suddenly aware of what he was doing and the implications it could theoretically have. His face was a mask of combined shock, horror and guilt.

To Dave, it was almost like a rerun of the locker room. And yet... not so. Kurt had been a willing participant this time, if even for those few seconds. Kurt's hand was now over his mouth, as though in disgrace at what had happened. Dave was crestfallen.

In Kurt's eyes, the disgrace was entirely his own. "Dave, I'm... I'm sorry!" he burbled frantically. "Oh god, what am I doing?"

Dave immediately sought to calm his friend down. "Kurt, it's okay," he insisted gently. "This... this _never happened_, okay? It was just a... a stupid mistake." The words killed him to think, much less say, but his concern for Kurt overrode his own emotional considerations. "Uh... maybe we should call it a night?" he suggested meekly.

Kurt nodded weakly, they drained their drinks and they headed out to Dave's truck. "You don't have to apologize, Kurt," urged Dave. "This is all on me."

"No, it's not!" replied Kurt insistently. "I know you by now, you wouldn't have kissed me unless you thought I wanted you to, so I've probably been giving you all these _signals_ all night. Oh god, I'm so fucking _stupid_," he lamented. "The last thing I wanted to do was lead you on."

They climbed into the truck. "It takes two, Kurt," sighed Dave as they fastened their seat belts and he started them on their journey back home. "I shouldn't have looked for _any_ signals - you're with Blaine," he noted. "And you've been drinking, too. You're not used to booze. God, it's as if I just... took advantage, or something," he grunted, angry with himself. "It's like the locker room kiss all over again!"

"Bullshit!" spat Kurt, his tongue loosened somewhat by intoxication. "It's nothing like that! We're _friends_ now! And we were hugging! Pretty... pretty tightly, actually," he mused idly as he fondly recalled the warm embrace and how good it felt.

Dave began to accept Kurt's interpretation of events, and felt compelled to add one further detail. "You didn't kiss me back in the locker room, either," he observed. Kurt blanched at the recollection that he had, undeniably, kissed Dave back. Dave. Actually _kissed_ him. _Kissed Dave_. Okay, kissed him _back_, but still willingly participated in a kiss with... _Dave_.

He found himself trying to convince himself it wasn't right. The being-with-someone-else argument felt too easy - there was something else. Then he remembered. He considered Dave a brother more than a friend, as they were that close. Brothers didn't... _kiss_ each other.

His conscience sparked back into action to remind him he'd just kissed a guy who wasn't his boyfriend. That brought a whole additional level of horror to the situation. Suddenly, being with someone else made it all far more complex and dramatic. "Kurt?" asked Dave, seeing him wrestle with the point he'd raised, and debating with himself whether he should try convincing Kurt he hadn't _really_ kissed him back.

"Oh god, I really did that," groaned Kurt, slightly wretchedly. "Blaine's gonna go apeshit."

"Not if I don't tell him," Dave assured him. "Which, y'know, surely a given?" he smiled. The last thing he'd ever do was deliberately cause trouble for Kurt, and he liked to think Kurt already knew that.

"But... but _we'll_ always know," sighed Kurt.

"Maybe you should break the news to him," suggested Dave. "It'll sound better if you tell him yourself, and the sooner the better. He can't go nuts over a few seconds of booze-fueled bad judgment, it's not fair on you."

Kurt sighed nervously. "I hope you're right, Dave," he nodded.

"I have to be," frowned Dave. "If he gives you grief over this, he's not being fair to you. You deserve better than that. You give up so much of yourself for him already."

Kurt hadn't expected this. "I... do I?" he asked uncertainly.

"Only when you're around him," noted Dave. "When you're away from him, the difference is shocking. It's like you're scared to be yourself around him because he doesn't like you being so _you_, so you suppress yourself to make him happy."

"I... I hadn't even noticed," mumbled Kurt.

"If he makes a thing of it, just remind him I kissed you. He doesn't like me anyway, and it'll deflect the blame away from you."

Kurt looked at Dave with admiration. He was willing to take the bullet. "Thank you. Seriously," sighed Kurt in relief. "This... you didn't have to offer that to me. I really appreciate it."

"No problem, Kurt," smiled Dave. It seemed like they'd somehow survive the evening after all. Dave dropped Kurt home and they said their goodbyes. Dave didn't like to imagine the trouble Kurt might be in for turning up slightly the worse for wear, and made a mental note to try to talk to Burt to assure him Kurt was never in any danger, in an effort to smooth things over for Kurt's sake.

As it turned out, all Kurt had to do was mention he'd been with Dave the whole time, and he'd been looked after really well (_a little too well - I don't think I'll tell dad about the kiss, he'll probably freak_), and Burt was largely appeased. He assured Kurt, however, they'd be having a discussion the following day about sensible drinking. Kurt winced, but took his lumps.

He then hurried upstairs to call Blaine and confess all. The drunkenness wasn't helping, but he made it clear enough that he'd only gone along with the kiss out of inebriation. Normally, he never would have either given out the signals he had, in retrospect, waved around like flashcards, or allowed himself to get into a situation where the kiss had happened.

Blaine was livid - Dave's lips upon _his_ Kurt, _again!_ - but saw an opportunity to get Dave out of the frame once and for all.

"I was worried this would happen," he sighed, putting on an air of long-suffering disappointment.

"I still can't believe it happened," cringed Kurt.

"I was trying to warn you against this," insisted Blaine. "The last thing I wanted was for you to end up leading him on."

"Oh god," groaned Kurt, not wishing to be reminded of how badly he could have hurt Dave. "I... I think he understands where we stand. I think it's okay," he insisted.

"Kurt, no," ordered Blaine. "This is turning into a godawful mess. It's only a matter of time before you break his heart, and I know you don't want that for him. It's time to do the brave thing." _Right into my hands. Beautiful._

Kurt immediately feared the worst. _Brave? That can't be good._ "What... what brave thing?" he stammered nervously.

"He has his friends back now," explained Blaine. "He has glee club. He's getting on well at the Berrys'. He can cope without you, so it's time to let him go."

In his mind, Kurt heard the sickening thud of the other shoe dropping. "Le... let him go?" he burbled. That was the last thing he wanted.

"It's the only way to make sure he doesn't end up too close to you," explained Blaine. "The only way to ensure he doesn't get the wrong idea again."

"But... but we're friends!" pleaded Kurt.

"I never said it'd be easy, Kurt," replied Blaine. "But look at the way he feels for you. He's in love with you," he stated baldly.

"God, don't remind me," groaned Kurt guiltily.

Blaine explained further. "I recently came across the suicide note he wrote you. I was looking for the NYADA application form, don't be mad," he added quickly. "Kurt... he signed it 'all my love'. He's already dangerously close to you. You _have_ to back away," he urged.

The notion cut Kurt to the core. Dave was now one of his best friends. He felt he could talk to him in a way he couldn't talk to anyone else, and he was a unique and truly unanticipated source of intellectual stimulation. "But I... I don't want to lose him," he begged weakly.

"You have to, Kurt," demanded Blaine. "For his sake." _Goodnight, Karofsky. Nice knowing you. No , wait. It really wasn't. Good riddance, then._

Kurt's spirits sunk. Blaine's insistence that he cut ties with Dave, after his admission that they'd kissed, regardless of circumstance, left him with no alternative. He accepted Blaine's ultimatum with a heavy heart and tried to figure out how to say goodbye to Dave.

Dave had already sent him a text message to apologize for the kiss and the ensuing awkwardness, and to wish him well.

_I'm sorry I misread the signals. I shouldn't have kissed you. I promise not to do it again, I'd hate for this to ruin our friendship. Hope Blaine doesn't flip._

Kurt desperately tried to think of a way to back off from Dave. He went over Blaine's comments in his mind.

"He can cope without you."

"He's already dangerously close to you."

"You _have_ to back away."

"It's the only way to ensure he doesn't get the wrong idea again."

He gulped down the lump in his throat and composed a reply.

**I'm sorry, Dave. It's probably best if we keep out of each other's way. I'm doing you more harm than good.** The moment he sent it, he tossed the phone aside and covered his mouth as though having done something disgraceful. He felt slightly sick.

All too soon - and yet, somehow, also not soon enough - Dave had responded.

_What, so we can't even be friends anymore either? Kurt, I beg you, don't do this._

"I beg you." The plea was like a knife to the guts, and Kurt had to fight the urge to reply. He _had_ to cut ties. Blaine had told him to. He recalled Dave's comment on their relationship: "you suppress yourself to make him happy". Perhaps, to make Blaine happy, he'd have to suppress his friendship with Dave.

He only wished it didn't hurt so.

Five minutes later, Dave sent another message.

_C'mon, don't I at least deserve a reply?_

Again, it was like hot metal driving into his sternum. The guilt was almost unbearable, and he hunched his knees up to his chin. Less than five minutes later, another text from Dave.

_Kurt, please, just give me a yes or no so I know either way._

It devastated Kurt to remain silent. Dave deserved a response, but he had to stop talking to him. Blaine had insisted. It was the only thing stopping him from picking up the phone and calling Dave to explain it all. Within another five minutes, one last message came through which made the decision moot.

_I'll take your silence as a no. I guess our friendship didn't mean that much to you after all. I'll miss you, Kurt._

To Kurt's surprise, he found himself sobbing and couldn't seem to stop himself. Dave's perception that their friendship hadn't meant much to Kurt was heartbreaking, and imagining how much pain Dave must have been in only compounded his own. He'd never lost anyone like this - at least, not since his mother. This almost felt like a bereavement. He'd often thought of Dave as a brother - was this what it felt like to lose a sibling?

Whatever it was, it was horrible. He hoped Dave didn't feel half as bad as he did. Unable to stem his tears, he lay down, hugged his pillow tightly and cried himself to sleep. He'd just lost one of his best friends. He'd just lost the closest thing he had to a proper sibling.

Seeing him again at school on Monday - or, more accurately, trying _not_ to see him - was going to be hell.

* * *

><p><em>AN: why? Why do I have this apparent need to leave Kurt in tears at the end of every other chapter? I did it in chapter, 5, chapter 10, now here... Sorry Kurt! It'll get better, I promise! (oops spoiler omgloletc)_

_Reviews == love. Even if it's to shout at me for going all yo-yo on Kurt and Dave. :}_

_-Liam_


	13. Tooth For Tooth

_**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: Tooth For Tooth  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks for identifying the weak spot in the chapter!)  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M (for violence, forced kissing)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives, mild violence, references to moderate violence out of scene  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 14,909 (it's worth it, I swear!)  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: After a few weeks of being apart from Kurt, Dave discovers who outed him - and when the truth surfaces, New Directions are shaken to their core._

_A/N: I promise not to go over 10,000 words and then follow a 10,500 word monster with about FIFTEEN THOUSAND. Just... bear with me, it's a pretty pivotal chapter._

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chapter 13: Tooth For Tooth<em>**

It was like history was repeating itself, only far more painful.

One of Dave's best friends was avoiding him. Wouldn't look at him, wouldn't talk to him, wouldn't even respond to text messages or email. Only this time, rather than being seemingly snubbed by Azimio, he was being blanked by Kurt.

Every time they crossed paths, his mood crashed. Kurt's presence was a stark reminder of how much he'd lost; he and Kurt had become so close as to be inextricably linked, and the shock of being pushed away from him so suddenly, especially on the same night they'd seemed to be getting on better than ever, felt almost like it had left scar tissue.

He was no longer tutoring him, so every math class was a reminder.

He saw him in glee club, but couldn't talk to him. He dreaded the possibility of another duet.

He'd ask Finn how he was, and Finn would always tell him "don't worry, he's getting on okay". It didn't sound right, and Finn wasn't always convincing.

It wasn't easy on Finn, having to lie to Dave. Being caught in between them, however, made the lying pale into insignificance. He saw both sides of the equation - he saw how badly Dave missed Kurt, and he saw how torn about the whole thing Kurt was when they were at home together.

And Kurt was torn.

Blaine's instruction to avoid Dave seemed to have an underlying message: "spend time with me instead". As if that was some kind of substitute. It wasn't; there were things he felt more at ease discussing with Dave, and he enjoyed venting about this or that frustration he had about Blaine. Now he felt like he was on probation, and didn't dare give Blaine cause for complaint.

But he missed Dave dreadfully. On top of that, he saw how miserable Dave looked, and why did that make it so much worse? When Rachel or Mercedes were upset, he felt bad for them and offered sympathy, but he never felt such an _ache_ about it as he did with Dave.

Azimio had noticed, too, and urged Dave to talk about it. Dave didn't want to burden his friend with his feelings, but Azimio insisted he was cool about all of it. When he'd heard how Kurt had cut all ties, he was dumbfounded - he, too, had seen how well they got along when they all watched Brokeback Mountain together, so the abrupt silence from Kurt made no sense.

All Azimio knew was that Dave was a shadow of his recent self while Kurt was out of contact. Dave was, at least, being gallant about the whole thing, accepting that if Kurt didn't want to get in touch, he shouldn't get in touch.

Azimio had the luxury of not needing to mind Kurt's feelings so much. He wanted answers for Dave, and after a full week of both Kurt and Dave moping around, he was determined to get them.

"What the fuck are you up to, Hummel?" he snarled at Kurt as they stood outside his locker.

Kurt had been feeling miserable all week, and lashed out as only he could do. "Already, we're back to Hummel?" he sighed in dismay. "I'm so glad all those weeks with you and Finn weren't just wasted time," he snapped.

Azimio angrily pinned Kurt against the lockers. "This ain't a gay thing, this is a Kurt-Hummel-being-a-bitch thing!" he growled. "What the fuck have you done to Dave?"

Kurt's venom evaporated at the mention of Dave. "I'm keeping out of his way," he replied meekly. "It's the best thing for him."

"Oh, you _think_?" spat Azimio. "You even seen the state he's in?"

Kurt's bile rose again. "I'm glad everyone's so worried about how much this is hurting me," he croaked angrily, his eyes stinging with the injustice of it all.

"This ain't even about you, Hu-" started Azimio, and halted abruptly as Kurt's point sank in. "Wait," he ventured. "You're hurtin' over this too?"

"I miss him," gulped Kurt. "We've become such good friends... and now I can't even associate with him. I miss that friendship so much I can't even put words to it." He struggled to keep his tears at bay, and only barely managed.

"Then why are you doin' this?" hissed Azimio exasperatedly.

"The longer he spends around me, the stronger his feelings will become," explained Kurt. "He's already dangerously close to me. The more time we spend apart, the less he'll feel."

"It's too late for that," argued Azimio, shaking his head. "He misses you so bad, sometimes he can't hardly stand it."

"Did you...?" blurted Kurt in shock. He knew that quote. "You just made a Brokeback reference," he gasped. "And you weren't even kidding."

"Seemed like the best way to get the point across," shrugged Azimio.

"He'll get over me," insisted Kurt. "It'll just take time."

Azimio remained unconvinced, and suddenly saw a comparison Kurt couldn't argue with. "You sure about that?" he replied, looking Kurt in the eye. "Jack and Ennis never got over each other." He headed off, leaving Kurt with the notion to wrestle with on his own time.

The reference left Kurt dumbstruck. Azimio was right, of course. Kurt was, by all reports, Dave's first love. He was acutely aware that the first one was impossible to forget: despite himself, he still had the occasional twinge over Finn. And he was his stepbrother now. Maybe it was because he'd been working out? Because, seriously. _Finn?_ Still?

_That's beside the point. Dave's feelings for me are probably stronger since we've been friends. Oh god, what if he never gets over me?_ Kurt tried to dispel the thought from his mind as he made his way to class. Math class.

He owed his improved grades there to Dave.

He owed Dave a lot.

* * *

><p>He wasn't the only one who thought so, either. "He showed me that message you sent him," snapped Rachel as they sat together in the cafeteria with the rest of glee club. Dave was at the opposite end of the table, near Santana and Brittany. It almost felt like the club had somehow segregated itself in the wake of the separation.<p>

"That was _private_," protested Kurt weakly.

"I didn't give him much choice, don't blame him," huffed Rachel. "Seriously, Kurt, how can you possibly think this is for the best?"

Blaine interrupted. "Dave's become way too dependent on him," he explained. "He needs to learn how to cope without him. It's the best thing for everyone."

Rachel was unconvinced. "You don't see how he is at home," she hissed angrily. "I went into his room the night he got that text from Kurt. He was inconsolable!" Kurt desperately fought back a sob at the thought that he'd hurt Dave so badly.

Blaine noticed, and clenched his teeth in annoyance. "A clean break's the only way to fix this," he replied vehemently. "Giving him false hope is just cruel."

"False hope of _what_?" spluttered Rachel. "He only wants friendship from Kurt!"

"For now," rebuked Blaine. "Eventually, he'll want more, and he won't get it. How d'you think he'll feel then?"

"That's ridiculous!" huffed Rachel. "What the hell's that based on?"

"Unsubstantiated supposition," sighed Kurt, to the shock of everyone in earshot.

"What?" asked Mercedes finally, as the others sat dumbfounded by Kurt's two-word explosion of syllables.

"It's what Dave would have called it," he nodded, almost nostalgically. "He secretly had this insane vocabulary of words with four or more syllables. It caught me off guard more times than I care to count."

"Sounds like you still wanna be his friend, Kurt," observed Mercedes.

"I do," sighed Kurt. "But if it means hurting him more later on, I'd rather not put him through it."

"You don't know that's going to happen, Kurt," urged Rachel.

"I can't take the risk," he insisted quietly, acutely aware of Blaine's eyes on him.

At the other end of the table, Dave was defending Kurt's behavior to the gleeks around him. Santana was keen to stick the knife in after seeing how miserable Dave was, and Dave wasn't having any of it.

"I should march up there and crack one of his nuts," snarled Santana.

"You'll do no such thing," hissed Dave. "If our friendship means anything, you'll leave Kurt alone."

"I hate that he's putting you through this," she hissed back angrily.

"I think he's trying to do the right thing," shrugged Dave. "Don't hate him for that."

Santana glared toward the other end of the table. She saw Kurt - slumped in his chair. He'd hardly touched his lunch. He looked miserable.

Well, that was just _stupid_. "This is totally fucked up," she grunted. "You're _both_ turning emo."

"Kurt in black guyliner?" guffawed Dave quietly. "I don't see that anytime soon."

"Jesus, Dave," chuckled Santana. "You're so fuckin' gay."

"You're one to talk," smiled Dave. Santana smiled back; they'd been close ever since their farcical dating arrangement for junior prom the previous year, and he'd been there for her to lean on after she'd come out with Brittany; the anti-bullying initiative had made things easier at school, but coming out to her family was a big deal, and Dave had been by her side, ready to dare them to put her through the misery he'd endured.

In the end, they were okay with it. Only her grandmother - her beloved _abuela_ - had reacted negatively, and he'd offered her his shoulder to cry on numerous times over the situation. Now she was determined to return the favor. For now, however, it seemed the only thing she could do was attempt to keep Dave's spirits up.

It may not have seemed much, but Dave appreciated it all the same.

* * *

><p>Blaine was determined to do the same for Kurt. Somehow. "You're still worried about him, aren't you?" he observed as they lay together on his bed, trying to keep the resentment over Kurt's melancholy out of his voice.<p>

"It's not even that," sighed Kurt. "I know he'll be okay - I mean, he's got friends, he's got glee, even Azimio's looking out for him... hell, there's even talk about getting him back on the football team," he shrugged. "But I... I _miss_ him. I really like being around him, he's been such a good friend."

Blaine decided to draw a parallel. "We all make sacrifices now and then, Kurt," he shrugged. "I still miss the Warblers, but it was totally worth it to be with you at McKinley."

Kurt couldn't help but smile. "You're such a sweetheart," he cooed.

"I'd do it all again, too," Blaine assured him. "You're worth it. You always have been." Kurt breathed out a contented sigh as he curled up against Blaine. Somehow, Blaine had this knack of helping him to forget all of the day's trials and tribulations. It was one of the things he loved most about him.

Blaine's resentment began to ebb away as the two of them embraced, and as they kissed they pulled each other closer. Blaine's kisses steadily moved to Kurt's neck, and Kurt's skin flushed at the unexpected contact. Kurt's hand slid across Blaine's neck and began to move upward, only to be thwarted by the wall of _product_ in his hair. He imagined running his fingers through it, and sighed wistfully at the missed opportunity. He moved his hand downward along Blaine's spine, and Blaine gasped in response.

Kurt pulled away abruptly. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asked timidly.

Blaine gazed at him salaciously. "God, no, Kurt," he breathed. "You're doing _everything_ right."

Kurt took a moment to understand. "What...? _Oh,_" he nodded, suddenly smiling at the notion that he was not just _doing sexy_ but doing it _well_. The thought thrilled him, and he began to respond in kind.

Blaine noticed, and began to hum with anticipation. "Jesus, Kurt, you're so freakin' sexy," he gasped.

Kurt could barely take on the compliment, as a few slight remnants of doubt remained. "And I don't even have _gas pains_," he replied, attempting mirth.

Blaine, to his credit, regretted his criticism of Kurt's "sexy faces", and immediately sought to undo the damage. "Forget I ever said that," he assured him. "You were just forcing it. But this," he droned heavily. "God, it comes so naturally to you."

"I don't know how it could," admitted Kurt. "I've never even..." _Had sex. Ever._ He couldn't bring himself to say the words.

Blaine understood, and reassured him. "Neither have I, Kurt," he confessed. "I always hoped it'd be you. I want you to be my first." He looked Kurt in the eye intently. "I want you to be the _only_ one," he whispered passionately.

To Kurt, the moment seemed perfect: their bodies were already responding, and the admission from Blaine that he wanted Kurt to be his only lover - _ever_ - made his heart skip a beat. Their lips crashed together with a sudden sense of urgency as they began to disrobe, and as they shed the last of their garments they thrilled at each other's taut, lean bodies.

In the end, it was awkward, and a little uncomfortable - at least, to begin with. But as their mutual desires swept over them, everything seemed to fall into place. It felt right. It felt... _good_. And Blaine was into him. He really _was_, as if it was practically a given that he would be. Kurt had never dared assume that.

Kurt had never felt truly sexy before. That was new for him. New... and thrilling. In the light of the revelation, all of his problems seemed to fade into the background. Kurt Hummel was _hot_. That was huge.

He almost felt like bragging about it.

* * *

><p>He only held out until Monday. "Blaine and I took a <em>huge<em> step on Friday night," he grinned to Rachel.

Rachel recognized the twinkle in his eye. "Oh my god, you slept together!" she whispered excitedly. "How was it?"

Kurt felt just a little deflated - he hadn't expected her to _guess_ - but rolled with it. "It was so good," he breathed. "We both just knew we wanted to go there, and everything just felt right. Trust me, you'll know how it feels someday."

Rachel's grin broadened. "Oh, I already do," she purred, her expression morphing into a self-satisfied smirk. Or, more accurately, a _Finn_-satisfied smirk.

Kurt's jaw almost hit the floor. "What?" he spluttered. "You've... _what?_" His linguistic skills fled for the border as he battled to form a sentence in response.

"What, you think I'm not sexy enough to go there?" challenged Rachel.

"No, I think you're _too Rachel_ to go there!" gasped Kurt. "I'm surprised Finn persuaded you!"

Rachel blushed - it hadn't been Finn who made the first move. Kurt figured it out almost immediately and clapped a hand over his mouth to stop from squealing. Rachel's blush deepened, and she bit her bottom lip as she smiled bashfully.

"You... you _minx!_" cackled Kurt. "What the hell happened to waiting?"

"Oh, _you_ try waiting when your boyfriend's a total beefcake," huffed Rachel.

"Holy crap!" giggled Kurt. "I see Finn's workouts with Dave have paid off!"

"Oh Kurt, you have no idea!" she babbled excitedly. "He was wearing this short sleeved top under his letterman this one time he came around last week, and my dads were out, and..." A momentary recollection crossed her mind, and her enthusiasm abated briefly. She shook it off, but Kurt noticed. "Well... I may have uh... tackled him onto the bed," she giggled.

"Rachel, you are _shocking!_" chuckled Kurt.

"I know!" grinned Rachel. "I pounced on him like a leopard on a gazelle!"

Kurt burst out laughing at the imagery. "Holy crap, Rachel!" he cackled. "That sounds... freakin' raucous!"

"It was!" she squealed. "It's like he was _made_ for me or something."

"So what was that pause?" asked Kurt, an eyebrow held aloft in curiosity. He took a guess. "More than once?" he smirked.

Rachel's excitement buckled a little, and she decided to come clean. "Uh... well, yeah, _seconds_, for sure," she giggled, "but it turned out we uh... weren't alone," she cringed.

Kurt's expression morphed from surprise through horror to amusement. "No!" he chortled. "Your dads caught you?"

"Not my dads," sighed Rachel, "and he was at least decent enough to stay in his room out of our way until later. God, it was _humiliating._"

"Dave?" cried Kurt, leaning against the lockers in hysterics. "Oh, Rachel! That's _spectacular!_"

"I made him swear _never_ to speak of it," grunted Rachel. "Or, uh," she admitted quietly, "he... might have just volunteered to say nothing. But anyway," she continued more confidently, "I'm only telling you because we're such good friends. I'm trusting you not to discuss it with anyone else."

Kurt's laughter subsided. "Don't worry, Rachel," he grinned. "This stays between you, me and Da..." His face fell at the sudden reminder that he couldn't share this with Dave.

Rachel understood. "Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry," she sighed, placing her hand in his. "If it helps, I think his friends are helping him through this."

Kurt choked out a guffaw. "His friends are helping him cope with something one of his friends is putting him through," he stated sadly, with a trace of bitterness that he and Dave were in this situation.

"For what it's worth," volunteered Rachel sympathetically, "he understands why you're keeping your distance."

"What?" exclaimed Kurt. "You were tearing into me on Friday for being a bitch to him!"

"That was before you explained your motives," replied Rachel. "Just to be clear, I still think you're being _stupid_ about this," she sighed in irritation, "but Dave and I both get that you're trying to do the right thing by him."

Kurt's expression softened. It helped to know that Rachel wasn't hating on him for steering clear of Dave. "Thanks, Rachel," he smiled.

"Even if it's totally _not_," added Rachel pointedly with a slight smirk.

Kurt glared at her. "Oh, get bent," he grunted as Rachel's smirk broadened.

* * *

><p>Helen was beside herself with nerves. That in itself was ridiculous, she reasoned; Dave had asked her and Paul to visit, and even though Paul had been caught up with work Dave made it clear he still wanted her to come. He needed to talk things out.<p>

Still, it felt like there was a lot at stake as she rang the doorbell. Little did she know Dave was waiting for her, and had leaped up from the sofa to answer the door.

Yeah, he'd missed his mom.

"David?" she volunteered timidly as he stood before her, smiling warmly.

"Hi mom," he replied, inviting her in. She got no further than a few steps inside before Dave had thrown his arms around her; while the gesture had caught her unawares, she relished in the show of affection and returned the hug keenly.

"God, it's good to see you again," sighed Dave. "This past week's really sucked."

"I noticed," nodded Helen. "I saw your recent Facebook updates." Dave pulled back slightly, startled. "On your new account, I mean," she added. "You added me a little while back, remember?"

Dave suddenly recalled sending his mother an invite to his all-new Facebook page after their unexpectedly fruitful contact; while they hadn't met up since the night he collected a number of his belongings with Finn, they'd kept in touch via email and phone, and an invite to his new Facebook page after the deletion of his original one, defaced by homophobic taunts and brutal photoshopping, seemed an obvious step. He nodded in recollection, and smiled. "I'm a little more choosy about who I invite these days," he smiled.

"That just makes it all the more astonishing that you'd even let me in," replied Helen, her voice catching as she recalled the evening they turned him out of his home.

"After the way things were left when I picked up my stuff?" smiled Dave. "Not that hard."

"You have to understand, sweetheart," pleaded Helen, "it was all such a shock. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was this body of evidence that was telling us we didn't even know our own son, that he was... a _stranger_ to us. I'm not saying it was right," she admitted, "I'm just saying... we're only human. We make mistakes, David."

"Seems to be a lot of that lately," sighed Dave.

"My first thought was 'how do I get my little boy back, how do I make him better?'," sighed Helen, shaking her head, "but now I realize it's not your sexuality that needed fixing." She looked him in the eye, determined to be understood.

"It was your heart."

Something about her tone shook Dave into a response. He needed her to understand how it felt from his side. "It hurt so much being kicked out, mom," he gulped. "You don't know."

Except she did, far more than he'd imagined. "There I was wanting to fix you, and all I managed to do was smash you to pieces," she continued hoarsely, her eyes filling with tears. "God, Davey, how can you forgive us?" she begged plaintively.

Dave suddenly understood just how big his mother's wrongdoings were in her own eyes - greater than in his own, for sure. He'd considered her reaction foolish; she, however, had clearly labeled that same reaction _cruel_, and struggled to manage her guilt.

He knew that feeling all too well from his history with Kurt.

He wrapped his arms around her, spurred into motion by a yearning to quench his mother's pain. "It'll take time," he admitted emotionally, "but it's happening slowly." He felt tears in his own eyes. "I promise you, it is," he insisted.

It was more of a breakthrough than either of them realized, or expected - the two of them standing there, sharing their pain, _understanding_ it, gave them an unanticipated sense of unity they relished in.

They sat and talked for a while, Helen catching Dave up on things at home - Paul throwing himself into his work, initially to bury his sense of anger and loss, then out of guilt after hearing how badly things had gone for Dave in the week after he'd told him to leave - Helen being so proud of Dave's performance at Sectionals...

"Wait, you were there?"

"We both were," she confessed. "We heard you'd be performing, but didn't want to be an added distraction or source of nerves. Oh, David," she sighed happily. "You were _outstanding._ I wish I'd known you had such a gift."

"Well, I... I do tend to sing at home," he reminded her.

The word snagged on Helen's consciousness, and she had to ask. "Uh... home?" she asked. "This one, or...?"

Dave smiled at the misunderstanding. "Both," he explained.

"It's been so long since I heard you describe it as that," smiled Helen.

"Maybe someday soon, it will be again?" shrugged Dave hopefully.

"Oh, sweetheart, I hope so," she beamed. "So apart from your _triumph_ at Sectionals," she grinned, "how have things been in your life?"

Dave's face fell. Lately, things had _sucked_. "Well," he sighed, "they _were_ going pretty well. Z's talking to me again, there are rumblings about me maybe getting back on to the team, although I'm not counting my chickens," he chuckled.

"Of course, the football team," nodded Helen sympathetically. "They threw you off, I'd forgotten. I hope that works out okay."

"Yeah, me too," nodded Dave.

"But you said '_were_ going well'. What's changed?" asked Helen.

Dave's expression fell further as he recalled the night Kurt was last in touch with him. "Things were going so well for me, Kurt suggested a night out together," he explained. Helen's eyebrow raised. "Just as friends," huffed Dave.

"That's the boy you performed the duet with, right?" she recalled.

"Yeah," nodded Dave with a reminiscent smile. "Just another thing for us to celebrate about, really. So uh... we went to a gay bar."

The look of shock on Helen's face said it all. "A _bar?_" she blurted. "David, you're 17!"

"Yeah, well, so's... he," winced Dave, picking a truly awful defense. He chose a different tack. "Look, we'd both had a pretty crappy few months, we _deserved_ the chance to blow off some steam," he claimed.

Helen had to admit, he had a point. While she wasn't thrilled with the idea, she reasoned he was due a bit of happiness. Speaking of which... "So what happened there?" she asked, concerned.

"He had a Long Island Iced Tea - look, I didn't know it'd have _five freakin' shots_ in it, so don't go crazy," he huffed. Helen stifled a chuckle. "Anyway, he kinda started giving me all these _signals_ and I totally misinterpreted and thought he wanted to get closer and I... ended up kissing him," he sighed dolefully.

"Oh," nodded Helen quietly. "He didn't react well, I take it?" she guessed.

"No, he reacted _too_ well," explained Dave. "He kissed me back - for about three seconds. Then he must have snapped to his senses cos he pulled away and looked horrified."

"And now he's too ashamed to speak to you?" speculated Helen.

"No, when I dropped him off, we agreed not to let it ruin the friendship," continued Dave, a note of sudden confusion in his voice. _What changed between then and the text message?_

"So what changed his mind?" asked Helen, echoing Dave's inner monologue.

_"_Maybe you should break the news to him." ...Oh. Oh shit, it's obvious. "Blaine," groaned Dave. "It must have been Blaine."

"Who's Blaine?"

"The boyfriend," sighed Dave. "He doesn't like me much."

"There's your answer, then," advised Helen. "Convince him, _somehow_, that you're no threat to him and Kurt. Assure him that the only thing you'll ever ask of Kurt is friendship."

"Easier said than done," grunted Dave. "He practically took pleasure in my being outed."

"That's... that's _awful!_" gasped Helen in alarm. "How could anyone take pleasure in something like that?"

"Told you, mom. He really doesn't like me."

"Did you ever find out who did that to you? Who outed you?"

Dave choked out a bitter laugh. "I've all but given up on figuring that one out," he grunted. "I'm never gonna track down the person responsible." He collapsed back onto the sofa, his arms hugged around himself.

"It could have been anyone," he murmured in resignation.

* * *

><p>The following Thursday, however, fate threw him a curveball. And it was the perfect reason to draw Kurt into a conversation.<p>

"Kurt! Kurt, wait!" cried Dave, running after Kurt from the cafeteria as he'd left early to get some air and clear his head.

Kurt grimaced at the plea, as though bracing for impact. "Dave, you can't be in touch with me!" he pleaded. "It's only making it harder for you to get over m..."

"I think I know who outed me," interrupted Dave.

Kurt's psyche immediately shuddered to an abrupt standstill. "...What?" he spluttered in horror.

"It's all circumstantial, though," continued Dave. "It kinda hinges on the fact that Ben Israel had the photos but didn't do anything with them. The person involved was expecting him to bust out some huge thing about me on his blog, but he didn't dare. Knew it'd make it look like he'd done all of it."

Kurt immediately suspected Jacob. He'd do anything. _Would he actually do __**this,**__ though?_ "Are you _sure_ it wasn't him?" he challenged.

"Yeah," replied Dave. "I saw the look on his face when _he told me about them_. Just before he showed them to me, then deleted them. It was the evening when I turned up at your place."

Kurt began to put the pieces together. "So whoever outed you..." he hypothesized aloud.

"Didn't just send them to my folks," added Dave. "They also went straight to the one person they thought would light up the blogosphere with 'em."

Kurt was scandalized. "That's calculated," he hissed angrily. "Someone thought a lot about this before going through with it."

"They built up a library of photos to incriminate me," guffawed Dave humorlessly. "Yeah, they thought about it."

Kurt was livid. "They need to _burn_ for this," he growled.

The sudden flash of rage from Kurt caught Dave completely by surprise. "Jesus," he drawled in shock. "And I thought _I_ was pissed about this."

"You know how I feel about outing people, Dave," barked Kurt tremulously.

Dave's jaw dropped. "Apparently, I _didn't_," he gaped. "Honestly, I uh... I kinda thought it was about me, rather than the outing itself," he admitted, feeling a little deflated.

A wave of sympathy came over Kurt. "It's kind of both," he assured Dave. "The fact that it's someone I care about makes it worse."

For the second time, Kurt caught Dave completely off his guard. "...You really care about me?" he ventured, not yet daring to hope.

Kurt's eyes rolled like ball bearings. "Do you even remember me in tears by your hospital bedside?" he sighed patiently.

Dave winced inwardly. "I never thought of it that way," he admitted.

Kurt wanted to get right to the point. "So who is it, then?" he demanded.

"I can't say for sure. I'm gonna bring the New Directions together for a summit before everyone goes home. If Ben Israel's involvement is raised, it should theoretically take everyone by surprise except the person who knew - by which I mean the person who did this."

Kurt nodded. "Good plan," he agreed. "I'll bring it up. If it comes from someone other than you, it might catch them off guard."

Dave exhaled in relief. "Thanks, Kurt. I really appreciate this," he smiled.

"Oh, it's not even a _thing_," shrugged Kurt. "I'll let Blaine know that we..."

"No!" yelped Dave, as though struck.

Kurt looked at him in confusion. "But... why not?" he urged. "He's sure to be on your side in this, isn't...?"

"What?" blurted Dave incredulously. "Kurt, think! He showed me nothing but derision and dismissal when I was outed, he tried to sabotage me at Sectionals, you told me he actually _admired_ the mannequin," he recalled through gritted teeth, "and now he's basically forbidden you from associating with me! Kurt, he won't be on my side."

"I... god, I hadn't thought about it like that," gasped Kurt, startled by the body of evidence pointing to Blaine's antipathy toward Dave. "Maybe we shouldn't have him at the summit."

"No, he should be there," recommended Dave. "If he's not, he'll wonder why he was excluded."

"Hmm," mused Kurt. "Okay. I'll try to back you up if he starts getting on your case again. Just because I supposedly can't _associate_ with you doesn't mean I can't support you. I just hope he doesn't get _snippy_ about it," he pouted.

"Supposedly?" asked Dave, not daring to hope.

"He doesn't have to know we're still friends, right? It's hardly like I'm cheating on him," observed Kurt haughtily. He paused. "If... if you want to be friends, obviously..." he added weakly.

"Oh god, Kurt, _yes_," begged Dave. "I've missed your friendship like you wouldn't believe. I can totally work with us as friends."

Kurt smiled. "I'm glad," he nodded. "I'll see you at the summit. I just hope your plan works out," he sighed.

"So do I," gulped Dave. The relief of being in communication with Kurt once again flooded him, and he wrapped Kurt up in a hug. "I'm just glad we're talking again," he added, his voice thick with emotion. "I've missed your friendship."

Kurt found himself fighting tears himself. "I've missed yours too, Dave," he breathed, trying to keep his emotions in check.

They separated slightly. "Didn't you see how miserable I was?" urged Dave.

"I did. It hurt," gulped Kurt. He paused for a moment. "Does it help knowing I was miserable too?" he asked, his eyes glistening.

"Actually... that kinda makes it worse," choked Dave as a tear rolled down his cheek. They hugged once again, more tightly than before.

"Let's never do this to each other again, okay?" pleaded Dave tremulously, still clinging to Kurt.

"Never," swore Kurt tearfully, clinging to Dave like a long lost relative. "I promise."

* * *

><p>And so they found themselves in the choir room that same afternoon seated in a circle, the entire glee club having been called together under the pretense of making sure nobody else ever had to go through what Dave had endured. Kurt had asked Rachel to spread the word to ensure Blaine didn't discover he'd resumed contact with Dave, and she'd been all too eager to take the reins.<p>

The nature of Dave's outing was raised, and Kurt brought out two copies of the photos that had been distributed to Dave's parents and Jacob Ben Israel. "I can't believe someone would go to so much trouble just to hurt someone else," sighed Kurt. "I mean, look at this. So much effort must have gone into it all."

Puck took one stack, Artie the other. As Puck leafed through them, his jaw dropped. "Dude, that's my _ass!_" he blurted in alarm, having stumbled upon a clear shot of Dave almost staring at Puck's rear as he bent over to pick something up off the ground. Dave looked sheepish, and Kurt was astonished: he'd thought he was the sole focus of Dave's attention.

Apparently, Dave had quite the roving eye.

"Dude! Your tongue's practically hanging out in this one!" chuckled Artie to Dave as he flicked through the photos with Finn. A shot of Dave gazing none too carefully at... oh. _Kurt._ _Okay, that makes me feel a little better,_ pondered Kurt idly.

"Wow," mused Finn as he continued leafing through the photos. "There's... a _lot_ of Kurt in here." Dave turned bright pink; most of them had already seen the photos by now, and everyone was all too aware of Dave's feelings for Kurt, but this fact, stated so baldly, was mortifying. He almost began to wish he'd not called the meeting.

But he knew how necessary it was. He began to focus on the possibility that it might actually not go to plan, and his face fell. Kurt looked across and noticed his expression, and decided to make his move. "I can barely look at the photos any more," he sighed sadly. "I just keep thinking how much worse it could have gone down for Dave if Jacob Ben Israel had published the photos the moment they were sent to him."

Blaine agreed, almost distractedly. "Yeah, I guess there's that small mercy," he nodded. Kurt glanced across the faces around the room, registered the reactions - shocked, surprised, scandalized, confused - and turned to Blaine. He'd offered _agreement_.

Kurt hadn't wanted that. He'd wanted surprise. He'd wanted alarm. He got... what?

_No, he... it can't be... he wouldn't have..._

_Blaine?_

_"If Ben Israel's involvement is raised, it should theoretically take everyone by surprise except the person who knew."_

_No. NO! It has to be a coincidence._ "...you don't seem too surprised by the knowledge that the photos ended up in his hands before everyone else," observed Kurt, attempting innocence.

Blaine was blindsided. _Wait, what?_ He paused for just a second. "I must have heard about it from someone else," he replied.

"Well, I never told you he had them," noted Dave. "_You_ told _me_ earlier today."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Convince him, somehow, that you're no threat to him and Kurt.<strong>__ It had been a simple enough suggestion from his mom, but going through with it was fraught with risk. Who knew how Blaine would react? Badly, in all likelihood... but he had to try to explain that he'd never come between him and Kurt. The friendship meant too much to let it go._

_"Blaine? Blaine! Wait up!" cried Dave, jogging toward Blaine as he'd spotted him further up the corridor. By pure luck, they'd both come to school early._

_"What do you want, Karofsky?" barked Blaine._

_"I need to talk to Kurt," pleaded Dave, closing the distance between them. "Tell him I'm sorry for screwing things up. He won't even speak to me."_

_"Can you blame him?" snapped Blaine. "He told me what you did! You took him to a gay bar so you could get your paws on him!"_

_"No! That's not what happened!" insisted Dave._

_"I don't care, Karofsky! You've totally messed with his head! The last thing he needs right now is for you to screw him up any further!"_

_"No! I only kissed him once cos I misread the signals, then I totally backed off! It'll never happen again! He has to know that!"_

_"Forget it! God, it's bad enough you've barged into Glee club without trying to harass him everywhere else too! Haven't you got enough already?"_

_Dave was thrown by the suggestion that things were going well for him. At that moment, all he could think about was that he could lose Kurt's friendship for good. "What?" he spluttered._

_"Nobody's picking on you, you're winning back your old friends, you're the star of Sectionals," growled Blaine. "What more do you want, Karofsky?"_

_"None of that matters!" urged Dave. "I'd give it all up if Kurt would just talk to me again!"_

_Blaine could barely stomach Dave sounding so... __**needy**__. "My god, just listen to yourself! You have __**no fucking idea**__ how good you've got it!" he barked. "If Ben Israel had created some huge exposé of the photos like he was meant to, things would have __**really**__ gone south for you. You'd have found out what it actually feels like to be a victim of homophobia."_

_Dave bridled at the notion that the past few months had been mere child's play. "I __**have**__ been a victim of..." he started, but a part of Blaine's tirade had caught his attention. "Whoa, hold it. 'Like he was meant to'?" he pondered aloud. He looked Blaine in the eye. "How do __**you**__ know about the photos?" he demanded._

_Blaine kicked himself for slipping up. "Doesn't everyone? They were all over the school!" he bluffed._

_"Yeah, but you talk like Ben Israel had them before everyone else," pressed Dave, his suspicions aroused._

_"I heard he did."_

_"From who?"_

_"I don't remember. Must have been from him."_

_Dave knew he was lying, but he needed more. He drove the point home. "He didn't tell a soul," he revealed. "He wanted to make sure it wasn't traceable to him because it was too dangerous. He came straight to me, warned me they were out there and deleted the photos."_

_Blaine was infuriated. Why couldn't he ever catch a break? "He __**deleted**__ them?" he snapped, thinking aloud. "Jesus, I can't even trust __**him**__ to do the ri..." He stopped abruptly... but it was too late._

_Dave had guessed right. "...It was you," he growled._

_Blaine remained frozen in place, his mind wildly calculating the odds, his body bracing itself for impact. The next move would be critical._

_The next move was Dave pinning him against the lockers. "You did this to me!" he roared._

_Dave had unwittingly played right into his hands. "Go ahead. Beat up Kurt's devoted boyfriend, lets see how he responds to that," taunted Blaine. He tried not to show his relief: Dave could simply have chosen to beat the crap out of him._

_Dave, however, knew how much trouble that'd get him into, and not just with the school. His face contorted in rage and his fist plowed into the locker next to him. Blaine flinched at the way it buckled, but his cocky demeanor remained in place._

_"You can't touch me," he crowed. "Nobody else knows Ben Israel had the photos, and nobody's going to believe I did this to you. No revenge for the bully boy."_

_Dave bristled at the appellation. "I'm not a fucking bully," he growled._

_"Bullies never change," insisted Blaine._

_"Takes one to know one," sneered Dave._

_Blaine almost laughed. "Oh, is this your plan B? Wage war on my conscience using platitudes as ammunition?" he chided._

_Dave refused to give anything else away. "I don't have a plan yet," he replied. "Still working on it."_

_"Good luck with that," scoffed Blaine._

_Dave played his best card. "I don't need luck," he retorted. "I have friends." He pushed away from Blaine, and stalked off down the corridor leaving Blaine to ponder his parting shot._

* * *

><p>For the rest of the day, Blaine had been like a cat on a hot tin roof - jumping at shadows for fear that one of Dave's friends may take him down as favor to him. It left his guard down at the summit... and now Dave had him cornered.<p>

Kurt picked up on Dave's point. "Dave only told me this afternoon that the photos had reached Ben Israel first. So how did _you_ know they'd been sent to him, Blaine?" he asked. _Please. Please let Dave be wrong about this somehow._

All eyes were suddenly on Blaine, except for Mike, who was now flicking intently through the photos.

Blaine was wracking his brain for a reply and kicking himself for not being more careful. _Shit. Shit, shit, __**shit.**_ "I don't remember exactly," he volunteered.

It wasn't the strong defense Kurt had been hoping for. _You don't __**remember?**__ Jesus Christ, Blaine._ "Well, let me narrow it down for you," offered Kurt. "Dave found out from Jacob Ben Israel. I found out from Dave. As I understand it, only the four of us knew. So, since neither Dave nor I mentioned it to you, you must have heard it from Jacob." _C'mon! Talk your fucking way out of this!_

Blaine allowed Kurt to lead him wherever he wanted. Kurt surely wouldn't believe he'd been a part of it. "I guess I must have," he nodded. _Phew. I just might make it out of this in one piece._

Dave saw his chance finally within reach. "See, that intrigues me," he interjected, "cos when Ben Israel told me he'd been sent the photos he told me they came from an anonymous source. And he gave me the distinct impression he never wanted _anyone_ to know he'd ever received them in case the outing was traced back to him. He deleted them," he revealed.

_Convince them he's making it up. __**Fast.**_ "And you're taking his word on that?" challenged Blaine.

"I don't have to," shrugged Dave. "I was there, I saw him delete them."

"He has absolutely no reason to lie," added Kurt, "and a whole set of reasons not to."

To his horror, Blaine found himself on the ropes again. _Discredit him, for god's sake!_ "Do you have proof of this?" he countered.

Dave smiled. "In a round about way, yeah," he nodded, taking out his phone. "When Azimio asked him earlier if he'd mentioned the photos to you, he seemed really surprised - before getting into a major froth about the idea of one gay guy outing another in the same school. His eyes lit up like he'd just happened upon the scandal of the year." He tapped and swiped at his phone a few times. "Azimio recorded the whole thing," he explained, holding up footage of Jacob Ben Israel being quizzed by Azimio...

* * *

><p><em>"Z, I need you to check something out for me."<em>

_Azimio smirked at Dave. "If it's yo' ass, the answer's __**no**__," he quipped._

_Dave sighed. He didn't have time for this. "Dude, I'm serious," he grunted. "I think I know who outed me, but I need to gather proof."_

_Azimio was stunned at the revelation. "Holy shit. Tell me who, I'll kick their asses for you," he volunteered._

_"No!" hissed Dave in frustration. "No, dude, it's gotta be handled a lot more carefully than that. You need to go to Ben Israel and ask him two questions: first, that he's absolutely certain he had no way of discovering who sent him the photos..." Azimio's jaw dropped in shock. "...Yeah, he got them before everyone else and deleted 'em because they were too dangerous," explained Dave, "so he might freak out a little when you ask him - and second, if he had any clue at all that Blaine Anderson may have been involved."_

_Azimio tried to recall the name. "Blaine? Wait, that's Kurt's boyfriend, right?" he asked._

_"Yeah. That's the guy."_

_Azimio was pissed. "__**He**__ did this?" he growled._

_"No vigilante shit, I'm serious," snarled Dave, ordering Azimio to back off. "This needs kid gloves or it'll look like I'm just blaming him with no evidence. Nobody's gonna listen and I'll lose Kurt for good."_

_Azimio began to put the pieces together. "But if it goes __**right**__, Kurt ditches Blaine and the field's wide open," he deduced, a grin slowly creeping across his face. "I get you, man. I'm on board," he smiled._

_Dave breathed a sigh of relief. "Sweet. Let me know how it goes," he nodded. "Also, could you take footage?"_

_Azimio guffawed at the irony. "Gonna be weird for him to be on the other side of the lens," he grinned._

_He tracked down Jacob Ben Israel later that morning between classes. As promised, he whipped out his phone and started videoing Jacob as he quizzed him. "Hey, Ben Israel," he asked. "I need a word about those photos of Dave."_

_Jacob was paralyzed in fear. "...what?" he asked meekly._

_Azimio tried to calm him down. The last thing he needed was for him to panic and run. "Dave told me you had 'em first and did nothin' with 'em. That true?" he asked._

_Sure enough, Jacob went straight on the defensive. "Totally!" he insisted. "I didn't want that kind of trouble! Ask Dave, he'll confirm it. I deleted the photos!"_

_Azimio nodded - he'd just confirmed Dave's version of events. "Yeah, that's what he said," he nodded to Jacob. "Good to know, man, good to know. You really had no idea who sent them?" he asked._

_"Not a clue," shrugged Jacob, relaxing at the knowledge he was no longer in immediate danger. "Whoever did it wanted to make sure they left no trace."_

_Azimio raised the second question. This would be the proof Dave needed. "I heard a rumor that Blaine Anderson might have had a hand in it," he suggested. "You sure you didn't see some sign of his involvement?"_

_Jacob blinked in surprise. "Blaine? Really?" he asked, slack-jawed, an eyebrow held aloft._

_"So I heard," shrugged Azimio nonchalantly._

_Jacob had already started putting the pieces together in his gossip-hungry mind. "Holy crap. There's a total triangle thing there!" he gasped, his eyebrows bouncing up in amazement. "Two gay guys get too close, so the boyfriend of one of them outs the other to destroy him! Holy shit, this is __**huge**__!" he squealed in exhilaration. "Can you prove any of this? Oh man, this is dynamite!" As gossip went, this was electrifying. He desperately wanted to break the news far and wide._

_"HEY! Calm yo' tits, man," snarled Azimio, eager to avoid word getting out too soon; a leak from Jacob could ruin the plan. "Like I said, I only heard this, we don't got no proof right now. Dave's still tryin' to build a case," he explained. "Blaine knew about them from someone, and that reaction proves he couldn't have found out from you. Thanks, dude, you just helped him out," he grinned, bringing the recording to an end._

_"If he did, you'll bring it to me first, right?" pleaded Jacob hungrily._

_Azimio couldn't help but chuckle. "Might even get you an exclusive interview with Kurt and Dave," he joked. Jacob's reaction made it crystal clear he'd taken the offer very seriously indeed._

_"AWESOME!" he screeched, punching the air, leaving Azimio to shake his head in amusement, chuckling as he went._

_Azimio stopped Dave at lunch with the good news. "Dude, he had no clue," he confirmed. "And when I put the idea out there, he started knitting it into a scandal right in front of me. It was crazy shit," he grinned. "Reckons Blaine could have acted out of jealousy."_

_Dave was thunderstruck. "Jealousy?" he spat bitterly. "I don't fucking believe it. It'd be bad enough if he just did it because he didn't like me, but..."_

_Azimio had to know. "Dude, were you and Kurt...?" he asked, faltering at the use of an expression that equated to __**doin' the nasty behind Blaine's back**__._

_"No! Never!" huffed Dave indignantly. "There was nothing to be jealous __**of**__! I've only ever kissed Kurt twice - once before they even got together, and Kurt hated it, and once recently - and we both knew it was a mistake after it happened. By then, the damage was done and now he won't even speak to me." He glared toward the table Blaine was sitting at. "I had a feeling Blaine suggested that - now I'm almost certain," he glowered._

_Azimio's expression darkened in sympathy. "That Blaine kid needs to get his shit messed up," he muttered angrily._

_Dave raised an eyebrow. "Working on it," he nodded with a wry smile. "Thanks for this, man. You got the footage?"_

_Azimio brought out his phone and transmitted it to Dave's. "Lets hear it for modern technology," he grinned. "I'll talk to the Titans, try to get some of 'em together. They need to know this," he asserted. "Might be the last push they need to bring you back on board, man."_

_Dave's breath caught at the suggestion. "Not really my priority right now, but dude," he gasped, "if you can pull that off, I'm gonna owe you big."_

_Azimio waved him off like it was nothing. "No way, dude. Friends do this for each other," he insisted. Kurt rose from his table and headed out for some air._

_"There he goes," stated Azimio, nodding toward Kurt. "Now's your chance - go tell him!"_

_Dave didn't need telling twice. He followed Kurt out into the corridor to break the news to him that he had a good idea who'd outed him. He couldn't tell him it was Blaine yet, and hated the idea of holding that back from him, but he knew he had to catch Blaine out in person if he was going to be believed._

_He just hoped it all panned out._

* * *

><p>It had all worked out perfectly, although seeing the distress Kurt was in soured the victory. "Jacob Ben Israel hasn't got anything like the chops to fake a reaction like that," observed Kurt, almost choking on the anger and betrayal, "so that was absolutely genuine. He didn't know you even knew about the photos. Which means you could only know they were <em>ever<em> in his hands... _because you sent them to him_."

Kurt couldn't even put a name to this... _thing_ he felt for Blaine. In his mind's eye, he was screaming. _You asshole. You absolute fucking __**asshole**__. How could you do this to another... fucking... __**person?**_ The others found it equally impossible to fault the logic, as it made too much sense to discount.

Mike suddenly looked up from the photos and delivered an unexpected final blow. "Guys, I've found Ben Israel in a few of these photos. I haven't found Blaine in a single one," he proclaimed, aghast. He gazed at Blaine, utterly appalled at the revelation. "Blaine, how _could_ you?" he gasped in disgust.

A sense of outrage began to suffuse the group as the truth sank in. "You _bastard_," spat Rachel furiously. "He attempted _suicide_ because of what you did!"

Puck, too, was angry, but for a different reason. "So the Titans have been down one of our best team members because of you?" he barked.

Dave fixed Blaine with a dark expression. "Blaine," he suggested in a menacing tone, "you've got some explaining to do."

_Told you I had friends, bitch._

Seeing no other option, Blaine used his nimble footwork to escape: he hopped up on his own chair, leaped through the air, hopped off the back of Rachel's chair and made it to the door before anyone could stop him. To her credit, Rachel tried to grab him as he flew overhead, but only succeeding in toppling backward.

"Holy crap, he's _fast_," gasped Dave.

"_Not as fast as me,_" thundered Kurt, taking off after him like a greyhound.

Once again, Kurt's fury blindsided Dave. In that frame of mind... "Shit, Kurt's gonna kill him to _bits_," he yelped. "C'mon!" he urged as he took off after the two, firing off a quick text message as he went. They all followed Dave out of the choir room at speed, with the exception of Finn and Rachel.

"Go!" demanded Rachel. "Go get them!"

"But your head..." started Finn.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me!" insisted Rachel. "It's just a bump, I'll live! Go, I'll follow you!" Faced with Rachel's insistence, Finn knew better than to refuse: he ran off to find the others.

Blaine tore down the corridor as fast as his legs would carry him, desperate to get out of the school in one piece before Kurt caught up with him. Kurt was closing the gap, but it looked like he might just make it outside... until something suddenly blocked his path at the far end. A bunch of people, one of whom had just received a text from Dave.

A gathering of Titans.

* * *

><p><em>"How come you brought us all here, man?" asked Rashad. "What's the deal?"<em>

_"It's about Dave," stated Azimio flatly._

_"This what I think it is?" smiled Shane._

_"I want him back on the team."_

_"Carter and Strando aren't gonna like that, Z," warned Oakley. "You know they were the warped fuckers who set up that mannequin, right?"_

_Azimio's face darkened at the mention of the two, and that... __**thing**__ they'd done to Dave. "They can fuckin' get over it or get the fuck out," he growled. "I'm done puttin' up with their crap."_

_"An' so say all of us," nodded Shane with a grin. "Sooner we get him back on the squad, better it'll be for all of us. We need to win us some games."_

_"Yeah, fuck those guys," agreed Rashad. "It's not like they're even anything special out on the field."_

_"Why the change of heart, Z?" asked Oakley._

_"I been meanin' to bring it up for a while, actually," shrugged Azimio, "but I just found out somethin' today which kinda gave me enough of a push to do somethin' 'bout it."_

_"What's that?" asked Oakley._

_"I know who outed Dave." Azimio's expression became serious._

_The locker room was suddenly alive with chatter. Shane raised his voice over the din. "Who was it?" he shouted._

_Azimio's expression darkened once again. "Blaine fuckin' Anderson," he snarled._

_Shane was thunderstruck. "The_ fuck_?" he barked. "Ain't he gay too? I thought they all looked out for each other?"_

_"I guess that rule doesn't apply if you happen to be a massive douche," grunted Azimio._

_"That's totally fucked up," spat Rashad in disgust. "We gotta warn the rest of the team. Where are they anyway?"_

_"Strando and Carter didn't give a shit," huffed Azimio. "The rest are at a glee club summit. Dave's trying to get Anderson to give the game away." He paused. "Man, I hope that goes okay."_

_"Shit, that could go all kinds of wrong," mused Oakley._

_"He's comin' back to us, either way," commanded Shane. "He's been gone too long. Shit, I hope they don't kick him outta there."_

_"Yeah, he's actually settled in well," noted Azimio._

_"Man, he's got you whipped," chuckled Rashad._

_"Fuck you, man," smirked Azimio. "I'm just standin' up for a brother."_

_"So say we all, Z," nodded Shane, smiling. "So say we all."_

_The camaraderie was broken by Azimio's phone ringing out a text alert. He pulled it out and read the message._

_**Blaine ran. Stop him.**_

_"Word's out, guys," explained Azimio urgently. "He's tryin' to get out. We gotta stop him!"_

_"Lets go!" ordered Shane. The others nodded in unison and charged out into the corridor to find Blaine._

_It was payback time._

* * *

><p>Blaine barely had a chance to register the sudden blockade before he felt something slam into him from behind and knock him to the ground. Before he knew what had happened, his arms had been pulled behind him. "How dare you?" screeched the voice behind him. "<em>How fucking dare you?<em>"

Kurt was positively feral with rage. Blaine had betrayed him in the worst possible way - and now it all started to make sense. His attitude to Dave's outing. His reaction to the bullying. The way he tried to torpedo him before Sectionals. His insistence that Kurt stop associating with him. Of _course_ it had been him. It couldn't have been anyone else. He could barely believe he'd not seen it.

But now the truth was out... and Blaine had to pay for it. He grabbed the back of his hair and yanked his head up, preparing to slam it into the ground, but found himself pausing as a desperate cry rang out behind him.

"_Kurt, don't do this!_"

Dave. _Dave_ was telling him not to hurt Blaine? After... after _everything_? A sense of sudden doubt and confusion clouded his mind enough to stop him before he was met from both sides by the gleeks and Titans.

"We got this, Kurt," assured Azimio, yanking Blaine up by one arm.

"Guys," called Dave as he jogged up to them, "lets take this into one of the classrooms. We're not doing this out here."

They bundled Blaine into a nearby classroom, Azimio holding him by one arm, Finn by the other. "First punch is yours, Dave," instructed Finn. "He owes you some payback."

Dave wasn't even expecting this. "Wait, what?" he blurted. "I thought we were just confronting him over this, not beating the crap out of him!" As much as he'd have liked to bury his fist in Blaine's face that morning, his sole focus currently was getting answers from him. _Why_ he'd done this. What he'd sought to _gain_ from it. How long he'd _planned_ it. Whether _that_ was the reason for his transfer, rather than to be with Kurt, or whether it was just _another_ reason. Hitting him wouldn't bring him answers.

Azimio, however, was more preoccupied with revenge. "Words ain't gonna fix this, man," he insisted. "I told you, he needs to get his shit messed up."

Santana smirked at the gelled culprit. "Hell yeah, I'm all over that," she nodded.

Dave found himself fighting the urge to thump him really quite hard indeed. "...no," he grunted. "I'm not gonna sink to that level. I'm not gonna be that guy. Kurt, he's your boyfriend - you wanna take this one? You were really mad about this."

Kurt glared at Blaine, now barely recognizing him. "Tempting. Very tempting," he nodded. "They're right, though. He owes you. He owes you _blood_," he growled.

Dave was floored by Kurt's venom. "Jesus, Kurt. Dark, much?" he gasped.

"Damn, Kurt," drawled Azimio, similarly shocked by Kurt's outburst. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"Kurt, please, I..." pleaded Blaine desperately.

"NO!" barked Kurt furiously. "Not. One. Word. You don't say a fucking _thing_ to us now."

"C'mon, dude, what's stopping you?" cajoled Rashad. "Take him down!"

Dave stood his ground. It wasn't easy. "I'm not hitting him," he insisted. "And you're all making it really hard for me not to," he huffed frustratedly, scanning the room.

"Tell us how we go about making it impossible," snapped Rachel through gritted teeth. "We'll get right on that."

Dave could barely believe Rachel was condoning violence, much less encouraging it. "Jesus, you too?" he spluttered.

"Remember what I said at your audition?" she recalled. "_All kinds of hell_. He's _earned_ this pain."

Santana sighed impatiently. "Can we get to the ass-kicking already? I wanna go all Adjacent here," she huffed.

"What if your hand gets stuck in his hairdo?" asked Brittany idly. "He could totally have, like, tar baby hair." Chuckles flickered across the room; as usual, Brittany had inadvertently spoken up at exactly the right moment. The tension eased, just a little.

"Nobody sees a thing here, Dave," encouraged Puck. "Give him your best shot. This one's free."

"No!" gulped Dave, fighting the urge to slam his fist into Blaine's smug... no. _Not_ smug face. It seemed more wretched and scared than anything else. "I'm _not..._ a _bully_. Not any more," he grimaced.

Shane shook his head as though confused that Dave wasn't just _getting_ it. "This don't make you a bully, Dave," he explained. "This makes you _human_. You don't gotta be a saint twenty-four seven, man."

Mercedes stood by Shane. "He's right, Davey," she nodded. "Blaine's always been down on you. Time to return the favor," she nodded toward Blaine.

Dave clenched his teeth, trying to stabilize his conflicting emotions. "NO!" he yelped in a strangled tone. "If I hit him, I'm only proving him right!"

Azimio's patience was wearing thin. The sonovabitch needed a beating one way or another. "Dude, if you don't do this, we will!" he snapped.

Dave suddenly saw a new option. He didn't have to hit Blaine, and he could back out of this without anyone thinking less of him. "Whether I hit him or not... he gets the crap beaten out of him?" he asked.

"You got it, DK," nodded Azimio.

Dave gazed toward Blaine for a moment, pondering his options. He came to a decision. "In that case, there's something I'd like to do instead," he droned, pacing slowly toward Blaine.

Blaine braced for impact, and was taken by surprise when he found his face suddenly cupped in Dave's hands.

"Blaine?" asked Dave calmly. Blaine opened his mouth slightly as though to speak... and Dave dove in to kiss him as invasively as possible before he could even react.

Blaine let out a muffled yelp of horror because _Karofsky was in his mouth_. Dave held fast and probed mercilessly, batting Blaine's tongue away with his own, relishing in the muffled howling and squawking from Blaine. Azimio and Finn found the situation appalling at first, but soon realized that Blaine was really _hating_ it, and that Dave knew full well.

He was _inflicting_ this on Blaine.

Amused catcalling soon filled the room after the initial shock of Dave's actions had worn off, and Dave finally pulled away leaving Blaine too shellshocked to react.

He looked Blaine in the eye. "Something to remember me by," he nodded coldly, "after you've _transfered._" He turned to face the rest of the room. "Folks... he's all yours," he gestured back toward a dazed and bewildered Blaine, and headed out.

"Me first." Kurt stormed over to Blaine.

"Kurt..." bleated Blaine meekly, only to find Kurt's hand clapped over his mouth.

"I said _not one word!_" hissed Kurt. "I don't care why you did this, or what you thought you'd gain from it. There's no excuse for what you did. _None!_" he barked wrathfully, before delivering an almighty slap to Blaine's face.

"You and I are _finished_," he snarled. He turned and headed out, but turned briefly at the door.

"Take him apart," he commanded the crowd, before turning back and leaving to join Dave outside.

Dave was leaning against the wall outside, waiting for the scenario to conclude. "That sounded like one hell of a slap," he observed. "How's your hand?"

Kurt observed his bright red hand. "Stings. Feels good. I think I needed that," he sighed. Dave smiled faintly.

Kurt fixed him with a glare. "You knew it was him," he stated accusingly.

Dave returned the stare. "Would you have believed me if I'd just flat out told you it was him?" he challenged. Kurt went to speak, but found he had no answer. He probably _wouldn't_ have believed Dave, and it was a hard thing to admit to himself. His face fell at the realization.

All the same, Dave still felt bad for putting Kurt through it all. "I'm sorry I had to do it this way," he sighed sadly. "At least they can't deny it now. Neither can he," he affirmed.

Kurt pondered his relationship with Blaine in the light of the revealed facts. It left him with many uncomfortable questions about himself. "What does it say about me that I'd be with someone like him?" he lamented.

Dave immediately sought to soothe Kurt's ego. "I doubt he was that much of a prick when you got together with him," he figured.

Kurt paused in reminiscence. "No," he admitted. "He was... charming," he sighed.

Dave wasn't about to soothe Kurt's ego if it meant rebuilding Blaine's character, however. "I'd have said 'phony', myself," he shrugged.

Kurt eagerly joined in on the Blaine-bashing. "How about 'manipulative'?" he volunteered.

"Harsh," gasped Dave. He paused. "But kinda fair," he admitted with the barest trace of a smirk. "I'm glad you said it, not me," he noted.

Kurt gave Dave free rein. "He's an asshole," he spat. "You can say whatever you like about him."

Dave flicked an eyebrow up. "In that case, let's throw in some smug," he added. "He thought he was so fucking untouchable after I figured it out. Thought he was so safe because nobody would believe me."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Wow. In that case, he's stupid too," he guffawed mirthlessly.

"Not that stupid," accepted Dave. "He had you."

"Not at first," huffed Kurt, "and he took his sweet time falling for me."

"You're shitting me?" gasped Dave, astonished that Blaine didn't fall for Kurt the moment their eyes met.

"I'm not even kidding," sighed Kurt wearily.

"Wow," drawled Dave. He looked Kurt up and down. "He's a _moron_," he insisted. Kurt couldn't help but blush at the bald compliment.

A wrinkle in the situation occurred to Dave. "Uh... we're gonna have to get our stories straight somehow," he considered. "And... what do we do about the corridor footage?" he asked to nobody in particular, thinking out loud.

Kurt looked up and down the corridor in alarm. "Oh god, we've been caught on camera dragging him into a classroom. I freakin' _tackled_ him!" he burbled. "And all of us coming after him... oh shit," he gasped, trying not to hyperventilate. "This is a _mess_."

Dave suddenly had an idea. It was a long shot, but... "Wait, wasn't Puck dating someone from the AV club last year?" he asked.

"Lauren!" cried Kurt. "Dave, you're a genius!" he beamed.

Dave shrugged with an amiable smile. "Still won't stop Tweedledapper in there from blabbing," he sighed, gesturing toward the classroom.

Kurt couldn't help but snicker at Dave's description of Blaine as 'Tweedledapper'. "...Yeah, he'll blame all of us," he agreed finally.

"We need something to deflect that. Like... footage that proves it wasn't us?"

"A set-up," nodded Kurt.

"With someone who isn't with us..."

"Or even _against_ us. Someone who _deserves_ to get their ass handed to 'em."

Dave had the perfect victims in mind. "Carter. Strando. The puckheads, too, maybe," he posited.

Kurt tried to beef up the plan a little. "Lead them here, wait for them to go in, give them a moment, then go all paparazzi on them to make it look like it was them?" he suggested.

Dave was amazed. It sounded ideal. "Holy shit. You're some kind of evil genius or something," he smiled.

Kurt glanced toward the classroom. "Hell hath no fury," he muttered angrily. He turned back to Dave. "How do we lure them here?" he asked.

"Hmm," mused Dave, considering their options. "Puck didn't take my outing too well - he was spooked like Z and Finn. I think he's getting over it on his own time, but it'll make it more believable if he rounds them up," he suggested. "He can tell Carter to get the others here. Carter's sure to listen to him, he used to have Puck's back when he was more of a badass," he nodded, more assured of the likelihood of the plan working out.

"Sounds like we have a plan," agreed Kurt eagerly. "We'll have to make it convincing, though, as if it's all _real_, somehow..."

Azimio suddenly appeared from the classroom. "Uh... we kinda knocked your boyfriend unconscious," he confessed.

"You must be mistaken," replied Kurt flatly. "I have no boyfriend." The fact, stated so baldly and undeniably, made Dave's heart skip a beat. This was no time to think of Kurt being single, but he'd almost forgotten about that ever being a likely outcome.

Azimio, too, was taken by surprise. "Damn, Fancy, that's cold," he drawled.

"Trust me," growled Kurt, "there's a burning rage fuelling that sentiment." Dave caught his imagination before it started throwing out images of him and Kurt in each other's arms, going on dates, having picnics, dancing together, kissing, caressing, touching each other in places that... _no_. Kurt was _newly_ single, after a particularly acrimonious split. Single - not available. He wouldn't be available for a while yet.

_He might not get over this for months,_ considered Dave sadly.

Azimio raised an eyebrow at Kurt's evident anger. "Can't say I blame you," he nodded. "Li'l douchebag deserved every fuckin' bruise."

"I don't suppose you scarred him for life?" asked Kurt, trying to rein in his bitterness over Blaine's actions with only mild success.

Azimio smirked at Kurt's attitude. "Not so much... but yo' handprint's still on his face," he grinned.

Kurt turned to Dave, suddenly mindful of the plan. "Lets hope that doesn't show up too clearly on the photos," he gulped.

Azimio was lost, unaware of the plan. "Photos?" he asked.

Kurt explained the situation to him. "We've got a plan to cover our asses... and maybe dish out some payback," he noted with the trace of a smirk.

* * *

><p>They all went over the plan together inside the classroom, Puck agreeing that Carter was easily dumb enough to fall for it. "Hell, he follows in my footsteps easily enough," he chuckled. "He <em>must<em> be dumb." Finn figured, as had Kurt, that they'd need to make the scenario realistic: Kurt would have to find Blaine in the classroom with the jocks Puck had summoned, and act like his _darling Blaine_ was being assaulted, barge in and take photos, bark at them that they weren't going to get away with it, and run off screaming for help - which, of course, would be in the choir room in the form of the assembled crowd of gleeks and Titans, who would then charge to Blaine's defense. And take more pictures.

"Think you can carry that, Kurt?" asked Rachel.

Kurt turned to her with an expression that had _bitch, please_ all over it. Dave couldn't help but chuckle: he loved sassy Kurt in particular.

Puck contacted Carter, and convinced him to round up Strando and a few puckheads to "teach Blaine a lesson for turning Dave". To Puck's amazement, Carter didn't even question him - he'd known Carter was dumb, but this was a whole other level. Puck told him which classroom to go to, and they took their places: Kurt in a nearby classroom to keep watch, and the rest of them to the choir room to await Kurt's call. Once in place, all they had to do was allow the scenario to unfold.

Carter only managed to round up Strando and Cooper, but three was enough. When they burst in, they were confused that it looked like a major scuffle had already taken place, and even more confused to find Blaine laid out on the floor. Carter walked over to him, and grabbed Blaine by the gel-soaked hair, and Kurt saw his cue.

He imagined himself having spotted them beating up on Blaine, and ducking back against the wall out of sight while he prepared his phone to take photos. He then spun to face the open door, looking horrified, insisting that they'd never get away with it, snapping a handful of photos - one clearly showing Carter holding up Blaine's unconscious head by the hair, the rest easily identifying Strando and Cooper.

Carter, Strando and Cooper all immediately gave chase as Kurt bolted toward the choir room screaming for help, and the others appeared right on cue. "They attacked Blaine!" he cried, convincingly tearful. "Get some help!" As planned, Rachel called for an ambulance, the others fought down Blaine's three supposed assailants, and Kurt and Dave went to the classroom to tend to Blaine. They'd both agreed it was the best way to put the two of them in a good light.

Once Blaine had been taken away and the three boys dealt with, Puck made a quick call to Lauren.

"Hi babe. You remember you said you'd be willing to do me a favor some time?"

"What did you have in mind, Pucker-up?"

"I need some footage uh... 'fixed' on the school security system. Think you can handle it?"

"Child's play. What's it for?"

"We found out Dave was outed by Blaine, and Kurt kinda jumped him before we dragged him into a classroom out of view of the cameras. We need the footage either deleted or tampered with."

"What a _douche_. Consider it done. I'll sort it out tomorrow morning."

Everything was in place, and a strange sense of triumph came over the group. They hardly felt like celebrating - a hole had been torn in glee club, an even bigger wound had been inflicted upon Kurt's love life, and their recollection of the past few months had been soiled by the knowledge of Blaine's influence over all of it.

But at least they were free of Blaine, and he'd been taught a harsh lesson for attempting to ruin another person's life for his own personal gain. As much as they were a pretty flawed bunch, they all wanted to believe they'd never sink that low.

Finn suddenly recalled the way Kurt flung himself at Blaine to bring him tumbling to the ground earlier. "Dude, that tackle was awesome," he smiled. "You should totally try out for the football team."

Kurt snorted in derision at the suggestion. "Thanks, but I think I'm a little too delicate," he refuted, shaking his head. "Besides, I only did what I did out of blind fury."

"Too bad," sighed Finn. "The team could really use a guy like you."

Kurt looked at him askance. "_Not happening,_" he grunted indignantly, to chuckles from the assembled Titans.

* * *

><p>Blaine awoke groggily. Hospital? Oh... yeah. They found out. They... <em>assaulted<em> him. They had to pay for...

Dave was sitting next to the bed. _No! No, not more! Oh god, he's gonna hurt me..._

"Hey buddy," smiled Dave, gently taking Blaine's hand.

_Wait, what?_ "Uh..." groaned Blaine uncertainly.

"I know, you're confused," smiled Dave. "You're wondering why I'm sat here holding your hand with a smile on my face."

Blaine nodded. It wasn't confusion so much as _utter bewilderment_.

"Well, just to put your mind at rest," smiled Dave, "I can assure you this is all for show. I still think you're an asshole, and I really do hope you remember my tongue jammed in your mouth for a _long_ time." The smile stayed on his face the whole time. Blaine's pulse began to race. This was horrifying.

"They think I'm your _friend_ from glee club. They think Kurt and I were the ones that _found_ you because we showed the paramedics where you were. I'm not about to do anything to contradict that, so you're perfectly safe here," assured Dave, still wearing the same unsettling smile. It freaked the hell out of Blaine.

Dave had to admit, he derived just a little pleasure from that.

"You can claim we beat you up all you like," explained Dave. "They won't believe you. We put together some pretty strong evidence that two guys from the football team and one from the hockey team did it themselves. They're trying to protest their innocence, but we're all standing by each other against them." Blaine's face fell.

"And you."

Blaine met Dave's eyes. "What?" he croaked.

"This is how it goes, Blaine," instructed Dave. "You're too scared to come back to McKinley, even with its awesome anti-bullying policy - which, I guess, only came about after I tried to kill myself, and _that_ only happened because you outed me. Gotta love the irony." Blaine glared at Dave. He'd inadvertently made things _better_ for him at McKinley. That was a bitter pill.

"So you're transferring back to Dalton, or to somewhere else - doesn't really matter, honestly, we don't care where you end up, but I guess you might have friends at Dalton," theorized Dave, "and you're not coming near us again. New Directions are circling the wagons and leaving you well and truly on the outside. Especially Kurt," he added. "Kurt wants nothing to do with you. I think he kinda _hates_ you now, and honestly? After what you've done?"

The same smile remained resolutely on Dave's face. It never reached his eyes.

"I can't blame him."

Blaine's eyes reddened at the notion that he'd lost Kurt so irreversibly, and his bottom lip began to tremble.

"I have to admit," sighed Dave, "the whole situation is positively _viscous_ with irony. All you wanted was for me and Kurt to stop getting closer, or maybe get me out of his life, and all you've succeeded in doing is bring us closer together - and you're the one who he's ended up shutting off."

Tears began to roll down Blaine's cheeks. He'd lost his beloved Kurt. He'd lost him forever. It hurt more than any of his injuries.

Dave found himself unexpectedly sympathetic toward Blaine. He knew all about the _not having Kurt_ thing, and after Kurt's text insisting they shouldn't be in touch, it felt like he'd lost him, so he genuinely knew how much pain Blaine was in. To his surprise, he found it hard to wish that upon him, and his false smile faded. "You know what the saddest thing about this is?" he sighed. "You already had Kurt. You never would have lost him to me. I was never a threat until you turned me into one by bringing us so much closer together."

Dave stood up and looked Blaine in the eye. "I hope you get over him sooner rather than later," he offered, a mask of sadness suddenly changing his features.

"I know I never will."

Dave turned and left, head held low, trudging away as he realized neither of them had won. Blaine, too, was struck by Dave's parting shot, and understood that the boy he'd outed now had the worst kind of thing in common with him. They both loved Kurt, and now neither one of them had him. Blaine found himself regarding Dave with a pang of sympathy, understanding how painful it must have been to be so near him all this time and not being able to be that close.

In a blinding moment of introspection, Blaine suddenly understood how much he had lost as a consequence of the course of actions that led him to the hospital bed he lay in... and wept openly. For the hurt he'd caused Kurt. For the damage he'd inflicted upon Dave.

And for his own heart, broken ultimately by his own hand.

* * *

><p>True to her word, Lauren had put paid to the footage of the previous afternoon's transgressions, ensuring that the only reliable evidence that remained was on the phones of the glee club members and the handful of Titans who had stood with them. In the light of the evidence, Carter's expulsion was guaranteed; Cooper and Strando, however, seeing which way the wind was blowing, sold out their compatriot to insist they were merely acting as lookout and only went in to ensure he hadn't gone too far. They both looked reasonably surprised and shocked in the photos that it was actually believable.<p>

They'd both end up escaping with mere suspensions.

Naturally, the following Monday's hockey training, along with Tuesday's football training, had been canceled in line with school policy as a response to the incident. Sue Sylvester had successfully argued that the presence of Cheerios coming to Blaine's rescue should mitigate the blanket punishment, and Figgins had relented. Glee club practice that afternoon was an unsettled affair, the events of the previous evening still fresh in their minds. Word had circulated over the course of the day of Blaine being responsible for Dave's outing, and Will figured that was why everyone seemed so shell-shocked. He barely even questioned it, and understood why everyone seemed a little off their game that afternoon.

Kurt was more than a little off his game; he was torn up inside, as the loss of his first real boyfriend had finally begun to make an impact, and he desperately needed someone to talk to.

Unfortunately for him, the others had also taken refuge in the arms of their significant others: Rachel was with Finn, Mercedes was with Shane, and he just didn't feel he could talk about his pain with anyone else.

Except perhaps his best friend.

Dave was surprised to see Kurt on his doorstep that evening, looking so upset. "Kurt?" he asked.

"It's started to sink in," croaked Kurt emotionally. "Dave, I've... I've lost him" he whimpered, tears running freely down his face as the truth hit him. He was alone again.

Dave reached out to Kurt and pulled him close, and Kurt burst into tears, wrapping his arms around him in response. They stood there for a while, Kurt sobbing openly and Dave stoically being there for him, before Dave led him upstairs to the privacy and sanctuary of his bedroom.

"Remember to keep the door open, Dave," warned Hiram from the sofa.

Dave gave him an appalled look. "Really?" he challenged, gesturing toward a mournful Kurt. "_Really?_"

To his credit, Hiram had only asked as a parental reflex. He considered Kurt, and his attitude softened. "Very well," he nodded. "If there's, uh... anything we can do..."

Dave smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate it," he nodded. He and Kurt made their way up to the bedroom, Kurt still snuffling.

Once they were safe behind the bedroom door, Kurt flung his arms around Dave once again. "Thank you so much for being here, Dave," he sighed wetly. "I didn't know where else to go, and I... I _really_ needed a shoulder to cry on."

"You've got mine," assured Dave gently. "It's always been yours, Kurt."

Dave had absentmindedly left iTunes running through his music library, and found himself blushing as his secret catalog of love songs surfaced. "Oh god, I should switch that off," winced Dave.

"No, don't," replied Kurt. "It's actually... kinda soothing."

"Really?"

"Hmm," hummed Kurt, moving to sit next to Dave.

Dave wrapped an arm around Kurt, who leaned his head on Dave's shoulder instinctively and let out a deep sigh. It was borne of resignation rather than contentment - he knew he wasn't likely to shrug off Blaine so easily. It had only been a day or two.

But being around people helped.

Being around Dave helped.

"Can I stay here tonight?" The question left his lips before he'd even given it enough thought.

Dave froze briefly as his imagination ran amok and he fought it down. "Uh..." he mumbled. "Wouldn't you be better off at home?" he suggested carefully.

Kurt gulped. "I... I don't think I'd sleep too well on my own," he replied nervously. He knew he was asking a lot, but something within him cried out for the comfort of company.

"I, uh, guess we could set you up, like, an airbed or something." Dave stammered through the suggestion, his suspicions already raised about what Kurt was really asking.

"Well... actually, I was hoping that..." Kurt couldn't bring himself to say it.

"You... want the bed?" Kurt nodded in response. "Okay," continued Dave. "I guess I could sleep on the airbed inst-"

"No," interrupted Kurt. "I meant..." Once again, he faltered, but Dave knew.

"_Sharing_ the bed?" asked Dave nervously.

"I just want someone to hold," pleaded Kurt.

Dave let out an uneasy breath. He'd had no idea how he'd respond to Kurt's inevitable request - but, as it turned out, he needn't have worried. His sole concern was Kurt, and if it meant he shared a bed with him without actually... _yeah, don't even think of that, dude_ - then yes, of course he could do it.

"Okay," nodded Dave.

"If it's too much to ask, I..." started Kurt.

"Not at all," insisted Dave. "I know it doesn't mean we're together, or ever will be," he sighed, "but this means I get to hold you. For one night, I get to be that close to you. That's more than I ever dared wish for."

"Oh, David," sighed Kurt, awestruck by Dave's selflessness.

"I'll go speak to the Berrys. Hopefully, I can talk them into letting you stay," he suggested.

They seemed as wary as he'd anticipated, if not more so. "Two boys - two _gay_ boys - in the same bed?" disputed Hiram. "Dave, that'd be enough cause for concern if one of them didn't already have feelings for the other!"

"Actually, that's your safeguard, right there," countered Dave. "He's just gone through a major break-up. I'd have to be the worst kind of asshole to make a move on him right now. And if he tries to do something out of some sense of desperation or whatever, I _won't let him_," he petitioned. "I couldn't bear to see him throw himself away like that."

Hiram was convinced. "I take it back," he gasped. "Clearly you're the safest pair of hands in Lima."

Leroy was less worried about the risk of physical concerns as he was about emotional ones. "You don't seem to be taking yourself into consideration here at all, Dave," he warned. "I can't imagine how difficult this is gonna be for you. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"For Kurt," nodded Dave, "I'll be as strong as I have to. As strong as he needs me to be."

Leroy was still mightily concerned for Dave, but saw no way of dissuading him. "I'm not talking you out of this, am I?" he sighed.

"No," insisted Dave. "And if you tell me it's not happening, I _will_ keep you up all night debating the point."

"Not the way to go about persuading me, Dave," sighed Leroy indignantly. "But if you're determined to go through with this, you have my permission, at least, if not my actual _blessing_."

"And if it helps keep Kurt in check," added Hiram, "tell him he's no longer welcome here if there's any funny business." He winked conspiratorially at Dave.

Dave nodded: he knew Kurt didn't think of him that way, but any additional deterrent was welcome. He returned to the bedroom, only to find Kurt in tears.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" he asked gently.

Kurt looked at Dave ruefully. "I... I _gave_ myself to him, Dave," he sobbed. "Oh god, I threw it away so easily."

Dave didn't understand at first. "You gave yourself to...?" he started, before Kurt's meaning choked him shut. Dave hadn't known he'd slept with Blaine, and the news felt like a blade entering him. His pain was unmistakable, and Kurt suddenly realized how much Dave was suffering.

"...Oh god, Dave, I'm... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even-" he spluttered dejectedly, kicking himself for dropping such a bombshell on Dave.

Dave fought back his composure. "It's okay, Kurt," he replied hoarsely. "I'll... I'll cry that one out on my own time. You need me to be here for you right now, and that's what I'm gonna do."

Kurt threw his arms around Dave once again, sobbing gently for Dave as much as himself. It had been a horrible day for both of them.

"This day can't end soon enough," sighed Dave miserably, echoing Kurt's thoughts. "Wanna go to bed?" Kurt snuffled a little, pulled out of the hug and nodded wordlessly.

Dave suddenly remembered something. "Oh," he added. "Hiram says no funny business or you're barred from the house." The absurdity of the point brought a soggy chuckle out of Kurt, for which Dave was grateful. Dave got changed in the bathroom - he normally slept nude, but he was damned if he was going to strip in front of Kurt. The brief moment that Kurt had seen him in the changing room with pink hair was enough, even if his figure did crazy things to Rachel.

Besides, if it ended up doing similar things to Kurt, it could add a whole new level of trouble to the proceedings. That was the last thing he wanted right now.

He came in to find Kurt wearing nothing but briefs and the t-shirt under his clothes. He looked achingly beautiful. Dave struggled to form words for a moment. "Um... there's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom," he offered. Kurt nodded and ducked in to brush his teeth. His skincare regimen could suck it - it was only one night.

Kurt returned to the bedroom to find Dave already in bed. He climbed in behind him, moved up close and wrapped an arm around him. Dave placed his hand upon Kurt's gently. Within five minutes, Kurt had fallen blissfully asleep.

Dave found it far more difficult to rest, distracted by the perfect form of Kurt pressed tightly behind him and the hollow thump in his chest Kurt was unwittingly generating.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Kurt. In tears. AGAIN. Why do I keep doing this? *sigh* Still, at least Klaine is now shot to bits._

_Reviews == love. Even if it's to shout at me for putting Kurt and Dave through the ringer again. *sigh*_

_-Liam_


	14. We're No Closer Than We Were Before

_**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: We're No Closer Than We Were Before  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks again dude!)  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T (for language and mild violence)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives, lashings of innuendo, one huge punch to the face and Kurt gets **awfully** shrill  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 11,594 (totally worth it, trust me)  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: things begin to settle as Blaine returns to Dalton, but not necessarily for the better._

_A/N: Another 10,000+ word beast. Oh well, at least it's certain not to be as bad as the season 3 finale..._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: We're No Closer Than We Were Before<strong>

Kurt awoke, disoriented. The room looked unfamiliar. It took him a moment to acclimatize, and then it hit him.

Dave's room. Dave's bed.

He was in Dave's bed. With Dave.

His arm was around Dave. Tightly. _He_ was wrapped tightly around him. And his body was betraying him in the absolute _worst_ way.

_Oh god, I have to get out of here._

Kurt slipped his arm delicately away from Dave, shuffled bit by bit away from him and quietly slid out from underneath the bedding. He spotted his clothes in a neat pile by the floor and dressed in silence, desperate not to wake Dave, tucking down his body's... _betrayal,_ in annoyance.

He let himself out as quietly as he could, and made his way home, berating himself for being such an awful friend to Dave. He had to stop being such a horrible friend to him.

Because not being a friend to him hadn't worked at all.

He realized on the way home that he'd told his dad that he was heading over to the Berrys, so he'd know he stayed the night there. He'd slept over there before, so there wouldn't be an issue about staying the night at an unfamiliar place.

However, the fact that he'd gone over to see Dave meant that wasn't the can of worms that had popped open.

Burt was waiting for him at home. And he wasn't happy.

"What the hell happened last night, Kurt?" he snapped.

Kurt was taken completely unawares by the question. Apart from the emotional maelstrom he was adrift in, the impression people might get from the fact that _he'd spent the night in bed with Dave Karofsky_ hadn't entirely dawned on him. Irrespective of the irrelevance of the point, as they hadn't _done_ anything and weren't _going_ to, he hadn't braced himself for the question - so it felt like an accusation. An attack.

Now, of all times. He wasn't ready for it.

And he dealt with it badly. "What d'you mean, _what the hell happened_?" he seethed back. At his father. Hardly the smartest move in the best of situations.

"Don't treat me like a fool, Kurt!" barked Burt back at him. "You went over to the Berry house to see Dave, and you're only coming back home _now?_"

That _was_ an accusation. Kurt wasn't willing to take it on the chin, and retaliated. "What? You think I just jumped into bed with the first gay guy I could find? Is that it?" he barked back venomously.

Burt hadn't expected his son to argue with him so furiously. "Kurt..." he started, raising a hand in a calming gesture.

It didn't work. "You really have _that low_ an opinion of me?" shouted Kurt, apoplectic at what he perceived as little more than character assassination.

Burt still wished to calm his son down, but Kurt's accusation was far too unfair to go unchecked. "Kurt, that's not fair!" he rebuked.

Kurt, however, was lost to his animosity. "No!" he cried bitterly. "What's _not fair_ is having to put up with _this_ just days after losing Blaine! After finding out he was a total _bastard_," he spat, his emotions far too wild for him to even moderate his own language in front of his father. "I thought you'd be on my side, I thought you'd want to help!" he retorted.

Burt was thrown by Kurt's demeanour. He'd seen Kurt upset before, but this? No, this was something new. Something bad. "Kurt, hang on..." he pleaded.

"No! I don't want to hear it!" he hollered, his emotions reaching fever pitch, angry tears running down his cheeks as he stormed upstairs and shut himself in his room, slamming the door behind him.

Burt was at a loss. Carole had stayed back in the kitchen, ready to jump in and calm things if she felt Burt was being unreasonable to Kurt. She knew he'd never sleep around, and was willing to offer him some support as she had a feeling Burt might overreact - but the argument that had ensued had left her bewildered. That was _not_ Kurt.

"What the hell happened to him?" she whispered to Burt, shellshocked.

"I haven't got a clue," gasped Burt, equally shaken by the exchange. "I'm gonna have to get some answers from Dave."

As it was, Dave had only awoken a little while after Kurt had left, only to find himself alone. He saw no sign of Kurt, but was certain the events that had transpired last night hadn't been some sort of bizarre dream or hallucination. He rolled over to the other side of the bed, and it smelt so like Kurt he almost choked on the scent.

Kurt had been here. They had shared the bed, and Kurt _had_ wrapped his arm around him.

They'd had that moment. But Blaine had already gone beyond that.

_"Oh god, I threw it away so easily."_

He was crying before he even realized. Blaine had already claimed Kurt's virginity. He rolled back to his side of the bed and thumped his pillow in anger, pounding out his heartache and misery as he bawled his heart out.

It didn't help. But what would? He was never likely to be Kurt's first, no matter how many times he'd fantasized about it.

He was never likely to be Kurt's _anything _beyond a good friend.

At least he still had that.

His phone rang out, signaling a message. It was Kurt.

**I'm so sorry for putting you through last night, Dave, and for leaving without saying goodbye. I was selfish. I hope you can forgive me.**

He tried to still his tears, but found himself unable to stop sobbing. He tapped out a reply.

_You needed someone to be with. I knew it'd hurt, but I took that on. Nothing to forgive. Are you safe?_

Kurt's reply came swiftly.

**Yes, I made it home, only to face accusations of being a *slut* from my own father. I could punch him right now.**

Dave responded as fast as his fingers would let him. His sobbing had ceased from the shock of Kurt's apparent anger.

_Kurt, that's your dad! And I'm sure he was just being overprotective. Did he actually accuse you of having sex?_

He left the implied _"with me"_ off the message. He couldn't wrap his head around the notion yet. Kurt's reply to the query took a little longer coming.

**He... implied it. Kind of. I think. Shut up.**

He hadn't expected such a hilarious climbdown from Kurt. He found himself laughing; it was a relief from the misery he'd awoken to.

_Remind him he's still really scary and I'm not in the mood to die these days. That should shut him up. :)_

Dave was kicking himself for sending the message within 5 seconds of hitting the button.

**Oh god, Dave, don't even joke. :(**

_Sorry Kurt. I was trying to lighten the mood. Hasn't enough time passed for a little gallows humor?_

**Any other time, I might have joined in, but I just don't have the stomach for it right now. My sense of humor's AWOL.**

_Along with your V card?_

Dave winced. Why bring that up? Why lash out like that? Kurt was hurting, he had to put his own feelings to one side for now if he was to consider himself any kind of good friend.

_Sorry. That revelation still kinda hurts. I bawled my head off over that this morning._

So much for putting his feelings to one side. Still, maybe Kurt _needed_ to know Dave felt this way.

**I felt awful about that the moment I saw your reaction last night. I shouldn't have said it. It's for me to deal with.**

_Is that an apology?_

**Yes. Yes, it is. I'm sorry, Dave.**

That helped.

**Maybe I should just give you some space while I work through this.**

That didn't. He'd only just won back his friendship with Kurt. He wasn't giving it up again.

_No way. I lost you once, I'm not losing you again. We stick together, okay? Through thick and thin._

_And yes, I'm fully aware that reads like a message to a boyfriend. My bad. :)_

**Don't worry, Dave. I promise you, we'll be together until our dying day. I swear it.**

Dave's jaw almost dropped into his lap at this.

**There. Now we're even. ;)**

An unexpected laugh burst out of Dave. At least Kurt's sense of humor hadn't entirely evaporated.

_You should probably go downstairs and apologize to_

Dave didn't get a chance to finish the message: Burt was calling him. That was a whole other level of trouble; he'd shared a bed with his son last night. He steeled himself and answered the call.

"Hi Burt," he said.

"Dave," responded Burt evently. _Too_ evenly; it set Dave's nerves jangling like a windchime. "What happened last night?" continued Burt, audibly calm but with a clarity of tone that suggested he was holding back his temper.

Dave decided the only way out of this was the truth. They _didn't_ do anything wrong. Well... _disobedient_, maybe. "Kurt came to see me," he explained. "He was a wreck, Burt. He needed someone to talk to. No," he corrected himself. "He needed a shoulder to cry on."

Burt pushed a little. "And you... _comforted_ him, I take it?" he suggested, making his implication clear enough for Dave to understand.

Dave tackled the suspicion head-on. "You're asking if we slept together," he challenged. "The answer's no." He paused; that wasn't literally correct, and he felt the need to clarify. He didn't want to slip up on a technicality later. "Well," he continued, "except in the literal sense, which is to say we shared a bed and slept. And nothing more."

"You shared a bed?" asked Burt, tensely.

"_And nothing more,_" repeated Dave, a little more forcefully than he'd expected himself to, suddenly concerned more for Kurt's reputation than his own well being. "We didn't have sex, there was no heavy petting, we didn't even kiss. The closest we got was when I held him as he cried his heart out over what Blaine did to him."

The deflection worked; Burt was reminded of Blaine's deceit and it shifted his focus off Dave. "He's that upset?" he asked, worried for his son above all else. "He seemed calm yesterday. Almost too calm."

"He was distraught, Burt," sighed Dave sadly. "And from the texts I got this morning, he sounds... I dunno, _angry_. I think the break-up only started to sink in yesterday evening."

"Oh god, the poor kid," groaned Burt.

"I'm really worried about him, Burt. I think he's taking this a lot harder than he's letting on. It might take him a while to get over this."

"He really matters to you, doesn't he?"

"Burt, I _love_ him. Of course he matters. I just wish there was more I could do."

Burt found his opinion of Dave changing. He'd put his own feelings aside to help Kurt, and to Burt that carried a lot of weight. "You've done plenty, Dave," he smiled. "Thanks for being there for him."

"Any time, Burt," replied Dave. "You might wanna go see how he is."

"Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks again, Dave. Take care."

"You too, Burt." They hung up, and Dave looked at his half-finished message. He rewrote it and sent it off.

_You should probably talk to your dad if he's not headed your way already. He knows nothing happened, and he's worried about you._

After a few minutes without a reply, he figured Burt had already reached him. He hoped things went well.

In any case, he'd find out by Monday.

* * *

><p>Or sooner, as it turned out. Kurt called him that evening to thank him for calming him down, and to bitch about Blaine.<p>

"I swear, I've had to fight the urge to throw things most of the day," he grunted.

"That's not like you, Kurt," observed Dave.

"I know, but..." Kurt's voice dissolved into a low growl. "Fucking Blaine," he snarled.

"The less I hear about fucking Blaine, the better," snarked Dave. "Especially if it's _you_ fu-uh... okay, crossing a line there," he backtracked. He was only willing to take the joke so far.

"Oh, fuck you," snapped Kurt.

"Okay, that's more like it," smirked Dave. "That I can totally get behind." He paused. "Or, uh, in front of, I guess," he giggled.

"_Stop that,_" barked Kurt.

"Sorry," retreated Dave. "I'm new at the whole talking-to-a-newly-single-friend thing. Other than the urge to throw things and kill Blaine, how are you coping?"

Kurt sighed. "I'm not," he whined. "I hate this feeling."

Dave paused as a thought hit him. "Shit, I just realized," he mused. "Neither me, Rachel or Mercedes are any use to you here. None of us have been through a break-up. Well, not your side of it, anyway," he explained, recalling Finn's discussion during one of their training sessions about how it felt like he and Rachel had been on and off like a strobe lamp over the past two years.

"No, I guess not," agreed Kurt miserably. "Maybe I should talk to Finn."

"Oh yeah," pondered Dave. "He mentioned how Rachel kinda cheated on him with Puck. Did she... did that really _happen?_" he asked incredulously with an involuntary guffaw.

"Actually, yes it did," assured Kurt. "In Rachel's insane Broadway brain, I'm sure it was perfectly logical," he noted sardonically.

"Wow," mumbled Dave. "Weird beyond the telling. Totally."

"That's our Rachel," sighed Kurt.

"_Your_ Rachel," disputed Dave playfully.

"Hey!" retaliated Kurt. "You _live_ with her!"

"Oh man, don't remind me," groaned Dave. "Christmas is gonna be _weird_." The thought muted the conversation as Dave suddenly realized he wouldn't be with his family this Christmas. And the Berrys were a jewish family. They'd probably celebrate Hannukah, and what _was_ that? Kurt, too, was imagining Dave away from his family for Christmas, and he found himself unclear about how to feel about it. The parents would be out of the way so they wouldn't _ruin_ things, but would Dave miss them?

"You've gone quiet," observed Dave. "Something I said?"

"I just got to thinking about Christmas, and, uh..."

"Oh god, you didn't already buy Tweedledapper a present, did you?"

Kurt let out a guffaw. "You're _still_ calling him Tweedledapper?" he chuckled.

"Yes," asserted Dave. "I'm making it a _thing_, and it's damn well gonna _stick_."

"I'm wildly in favor of that," grinned Kurt.

"So... was that it? About Christmas, I mean."

"Um. Not really."

"So what was it?"

Kurt felt distinctly awkward, but elaborated regardless. "I was kinda wondering what your plans were for Christmas," he explained. "You'd be welcome at our place." The words were out of his mouth almost before he'd even thought them.

"Oh," blurted Dave, in the absence of any coherent thoughts on the idea. "Wow," he continued. "Uh," he concluded, feeling very inconclusive indeed.

"Or, uh, maybe I should ask dad first," conceded Kurt weakly, drawing a chuckle from Dave.

"Yeah, lets not make plans we can't follow through on," grinned Dave. "I, uh, figured I'd be spending Christmas with the Berrys, but I got a feeling mom's gonna be really cut up if I do that. I'll have to think it over."

"Well, don't put yourself aside for everyone else," reminded Kurt. "It's Christmas, and you're young. You're entitled to enjoy yourself."

The suggestion sparked an idea in Dave. "I think I've got an idea how to cover all the angles," he grinned. "I'll have to talk to the Berrys."

"What are you planning?" asked Kurt suspiciously.

"Oh, just killing two birds with one stone," smiled Dave.

"That doesn't tell me _anything_," huffed Kurt.

"I know," smirked Dave.

_Damn you Karofsky,_ thought Kurt frustratedly.

* * *

><p>Christmas wasn't as big a trainwreck as Kurt had feared - a blast of retail therapy had certainly given him the lift he needed even if it was the purchase of gifts for others, and Finn's gift of a genuinely <em>gorgeous<em> scarf was the kind of shock he really hadn't prepared himself for. Finn had, in the spirit of fair play - and Christmas, of course - revealed that Mercedes had more or less picked it out for him.

It felt nice being surrounded by family: the presence of Finn, Carole and his father felt genuinely festive. Momentarily, his mind strayed to Dave's situation - as much as the Berrys may have been welcoming to him, what would Christmas be over there?

Finn didn't immediately notice the look on Kurt's face, but the way he'd left his knife and fork suspended motionlessly above the plate threw up an unavoidable red flag. "Something wrong, Kurt?" he asked.

Kurt snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh, just wondering how Dave is," he shrugged. "The Berrys are probably celebrating Hannukah, and I'm wondering if he misses Christmas."

"Chill, dude," reassured Finn. "It'll be totally cool."

"I'll take your word for it," sighed Kurt. "You'll probably be over there after dinner anyway, won't you?"

"Nah," countered Finn. "I called Rachel earlier. I can see her tomorrow. It'll be a bit busy over there today."

Kurt was surprised by Finn's assertion that the Berry household, currently home to four people, could ever be considered busy. "What, because Dave's there?" he asked, confused.

"No," explained Finn. "Because his folks are." Kurt's knife fell from his hand and crashed onto the plate.

"Wh... what are _they_ doing over there?" he spluttered, suddenly fearful for Dave's holiday spirit.

"Celebrating Christmas with him," elaborated Finn, baffled that Kurt wouldn't understand that from the fact that it was Christmas and they were all together. "Even the Berrys are taking part. They're doing it especially for Dave after he asked if he could invite his folks."

The fork fell from Kurt's hand. "I... I'd like to be excused from the table for a moment," he pleaded tremulously. The whole situation seemed terribly wrong to Kurt, and he had to get to the bottom of it before he did anything else - the rest of his dinner could wait.

Burt looked his son in the eye, reading him like a billboard. "You're not calling Dave," he insisted.

"Dad, _please_," begged Kurt.

"I'm not gonna have you interrupting their Christmas," stated Burt flatly.

"How about _saving_ him from it?" spat Kurt bitterly, making his feelings about the Karofskys clear.

"Kurt, he asked if he could invite them!" reminded Finn. "He wants them over there!"

"And I can't even _count_ the ways that could go wrong!" barked Kurt, his voice rising with his anger.

"Kurt, enough!" snapped Burt.

"Dad, I'm _begging_ you!" urged Kurt. "I can't just sit by while Dave's Christmas goes to hell!"

Burt knew this side of Kurt: there was no reasoning with him, and he had little choice but to let the situation unfold under Kurt's direction. "Fine," he sighed wearily. "Go call him."

Kurt leapt up from the dinner table, phone in hand. "Thanks, dad! I owe you!" he cried as he headed up to his room to call Dave.

"Damn right you do!" called Burt, annoyed. "You're gonna be the one to help me smooth things over with the Berrys for this!"

"Sorry, Burt," offered Finn meekly. "My fault for mentioning Dave's folks were there."

"No, Finn," assured Burt. "It's all on Kurt. He's totally overreacting."

"I guess he really cares about Dave," mused Finn.

Burt raised an eyebrow at Finn. "Oh, you see that too, huh?" he noted. Finn nodded with a grin.

"My god," gasped Carole. "And I thought I was the only one to spot it," she grinned.

"Sooner he gets over the whole Blaine thing, the better," sighed Burt. "He could do a hell of a lot worse than Dave."

"Try telling _him_ that," sighed Finn.

"Ehh," shrugged Burt. "It's Kurt. He'll come to it in his own time."

Kurt, meanwhile, had made his way to his room, oblivious to the idle matchmaking going on below. "C'mon, _c'mon_," he growled at his handset as he waited for Dave to pick up.

Meanwhile, at the Berry house, Dave's pocket started to ring out as he sat at the dinner table. He fished his phone out of his pocket. "Huh," he grinned, shaking his head. "Bad timing, Kurt." He pushed the call to voicemail and placed his phone on the table.

"Someone wishing you a merry Christmas, son?" asked Paul.

"It's Kurt, and he did that by text this morning," shrugged Dave. "God knows why he'd want to actually call. They can't just be opening their presents now, surely?"

"Perhaps they've already finished dinner?" suggested Leroy.

Dave's phone suddenly flashed up a text from kurt.

**YOUR PARENTS? WTF? CALL ME!**

The bluntness of it shocked him, and his expression betrayed his shock. "Dave, what's wrong?" asked Rachel. "Tell me Blaine didn't get your number somehow?"

"No, it's... it's Kurt," he stammered. "Uh... could I be excused for a moment? It seems pretty urgent. Kurt doesn't send texts in all caps, he knows it's like shouting." He paused. "Which means he _is_ shouting this message," he drawled, the realization sinking in. "Please, I need to put his mind at rest," he urged.

"I'm okay with it if you are, Paul," suggested Leroy. "Honey?" he asked, looking to Hiram.

"Sure, no problem," shrugged Hiram acquiescently. "Your call, Paul."

Paul couldn't help but feel awkward at having the say over Dave leaving the table at a Christmas meal to which he himself was a guest. However, the Berrys had clearly abdicated responsibility for his son to him on the matter; part of him felt almost excited about that. It felt familiar in a way he hadn't expected, but welcomed eagerly. "Go talk to him, son," he suggested to Dave. "He's clearly worried about you."

The thought made Dave feel warm inside, even if it was just Kurt's concern for him as a friend. He politely dismissed himself, made his way into the living room and called Kurt, who picked up almost instantaneously. "What the hell are they doing there?" he squealed to Dave.

"Uh," hesitated Dave. "Helping me celebrate Christmas?" he suggested.

"Please tell me nothing's gone wrong!" pleaded Kurt, sounding just a little frantic.

_Gone wrong? Frickin' _**Rachel**_, that's what._ "Rachel sang to me again," winced Dave. "Oh, and she barged into my room this morning under the pretense of wishing me a merry Christmas, and I swear she only did it to see more of me than I was willing to show," he grunted.

"But... apart from that," asked Kurt uncertainly, "everything's okay?"

"Sure," smiled Dave. "It's great having the folks here. Really feels like Christmas, you know? And the way the Berrys are doing Christmas for me," he gushed. "God, Kurt, it's amazing. Best Christmas ever."

Kurt seemed placated by Dave's assertion. "You're... really getting on okay with them?" he asked hesitantly.

"Actually, yeah!" replied Dave, as though only considering the point for the first time. It had felt so natural that he hadn't even questioned it. "I'm actually getting on really well with them!"

"Oh god, that's a relief," sighed Kurt, appeased by Dave's encouraging news. "I was so worried your Christmas was about to be demolished."

"Not at all," smiled Dave. "Uh, as great as it is to hear from you, can I get back to dinner now?" he chuckled.

"Oh, crap!" spluttered Kurt. "Yes! Yes! Oh god, I'm sorry," he cringed embarrassedly.

"No problem, Kurt," chuckled Dave. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Dave!" smiled Kurt. "Call me later, I _must_ tell you about the scarf Finn got me!"

"Wait, Finn got you a _scarf?_"

"Well, he roped in Mercedes, but it's the thought that counts," giggled Kurt. Dave chortled at the correction.

"God bless him," he laughed. "You can tell me all about it later. Bye for now, Kurt!"

"Bye, Dave," replied Kurt, feeling calmer at the news that Dave's day hadn't been wrecked by parental conflict.

He didn't even stop to wonder why it mattered so much to him.

* * *

><p>It seemed rushed. Kurt couldn't get the thought out of his mind: it all seemed to be happening far too fast. Only last week, Dave had had his parents over at the Berrys for Christmas after asking Hiram and Leroy, and now he was moving back in?<p>

He sure as hell wasn't going to let him do it alone. Finn had volunteered to help him, just as he'd helped him retrieve his stuff initially, but the fierce, almost _ferocious_ glint in Kurt's eyes told Finn he was better off sitting this one out. Kurt was going over there come hell or high water, and the mere human force of Finn wasn't about to stop him.

And why? To be his shield? To defend him? Protect him? Be his _bodyguard_? The notion seemed utterly preposterous, but Kurt wasn't even considering it. He was just going to be there for Dave. _This is a big step for Dave. He needs me._ He needed to be present at such a pivotal moment in Dave's life. He'd missed too many.

And why was that so important?

Dave, too, found Kurt's eagerness to help a little jarring. He'd pretty much demanded to help him move back. Given the way Kurt had freaked out over their presence at the Berrys' on Christmas Day, he couldn't figure out what was going on in Kurt's mind.

As he parked up outside the Karofskys', he shrugged off his doubts. It seemed immaterial now - he was here. He was... _home_.

_Still feels weird. Maybe it'll be different once I'm inside._

He made his way inside, having been given a set of keys - almost like an unexpected, strange additional Christmas gift - so he could let himself in without having to wait for his parents to be around. He headed in, Kurt following behind him... and stopped dead in his tracks.

Paul was on his feet in the lounge. Helen was sat on the sofa.

And it suddenly felt like every cubic inch of air had been sucked out of the room.

Kurt almost walked straight into the back of him, so sudden was his stop. He stepped to the side and was thrown by the look of utter distress on Dave's face. Paul merely looked concerned by the sudden and dramatic change in Dave's expression. "Dave, what's wrong?" asked Kurt urgently.

Dave wrestled himself free from the shock of the scene he'd wandered into, and offered up as good an explanation as he could muster. "...Sorry, it's... it just..." he gulped. "With mom sitting there and dad standing where he is, it just felt like..." He faltered.

Kurt suddenly understood. "Like the night they threw you out," he completed hoarsely. Paul clapped his hand over his mouth in horror at the realization.

Dave nodded nervously, adjusting to the memory and reminding himself that was all it was. "Just brought it all back, y'know?" he sighed sadly.

Paul immediately sought to assuage Dave's trauma. "Oh god, son, I'm sorry," he blurted, guilt-ridden and moving forward to hug his boy.

"Isn't it a bit late for that?" snapped Kurt bitterly. His tone so accurately echoed the anger and hurt Dave had expressed in his suicide note that Paul found himself rooted to the spot.

Kurt fixed him with an angry glare. "The damage is already done. Look at him!" he challenged.

Paul's guilt was inflamed by the accusation. "I can't change the things I've put him through," he admitted. "All I can do is try to make up for them."

Kurt angrily rejected Paul's platitudes. "You think you can make up for _this_?" he snarled, gesturing toward a still-shellshocked Dave, now struggling to take in Kurt's burst of fury. Where had _that_ come from?

Paul, too, hadn't anticipated such a ferocious verbal assault. "...I don't know," he confessed. "That's why I said _try_, Kurt."

Helen leapt to Paul's defense. "And we're determined to try," she implored. "He's our son. We weren't there for him when he needed us the most, but we will be from now on. Always."

Kurt seemed mildly placated by Helen's insistence, but was still fiercely defensive of Dave. "Make sure you are," he demanded. "If I hear you've hurt him again..."

Dave's shock had subsided, and he sought to calm the situation. "Kurt... it's okay," he assured gently.

Kurt was too aggrieved to accept Dave's assurance. "No, it's _not okay_, Dave!" he barked. "They were the ones you needed to give you support and reassurance, and they were the _first_ to push you away! How can you ever trust them again?"

Dave was alarmed at Kurt's outright condemnation of his parents. "Kurt, that doesn't help!" he appealed in alarm. "We know it won't be easy, but at least we're trying!"

"After what they did?" cried Kurt in outrage. Dave found Kurt's unanticipated burst of anger impossible to explain. He'd already forgiven them and made his peace, even though he knew there'd be moments of awkwardness ahead for the three of them, so why was Kurt being so confrontational? Especially after... _Hang on a second._

"So why did you forgive me?"

It was the last thing Kurt expected. "...what?" he blurted, somewhat more meekly.

Dave pressed his point forward, determined to guard his parents from further criticism. "I threatened to kill you," he reminded Kurt. "I bullied you. For _months_. And you still forgave me." He gestured toward his parents and drew a parallel. "They reacted badly just _once_, and that means I shouldn't forgive them?" he challenged. "What they did was a _reaction_, not a _decision_. I was _worse_, Kurt," he stated firmly.

Kurt saw his argument falling to bits around him. He had to protect Dave, but it was all going wrong. Why was it all going _so wrong?_ "But... Dave..." he bleated, battling to find a way to reinforce his argument.

Dave didn't give him the chance, taking Kurt on directly. "Look, I know you're worried about me, and... jesus, Kurt, that matters to me more than you can imagine," he sighed, taking a brief moment to bask in Kurt's protection and dedication. "But I need to try this," he continued, "and it'd be so much easier if you were behind me on it."

Kurt found his argument in ruins. Dave was right, and he... was _wrong?_ He wanted to help. This... this wasn't helping. "...I just hate the idea that you'll end up being hurt over this," he pleaded wretchedly, fighting his tears back. He was _not_ going to turn into some blubbering loon in front of _them_.

Dave nodded reassuringly. "I know," he replied, almost in a whisper. "Like I said, the three of us know it's not gonna be easy," placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "But we all want this to work."

Kurt considered Dave's determination to go through with things, and nodded hesitantly. "If you insist," he conceded. "But Dave? The _moment_ you need someone to talk to, you get in touch, okay?" he demanded. "Don't hesitate, just pick up the phone and _talk_ to me." It wasn't a question, not even an offer. It was an instruction. Kurt was ordering him to do this.

And Dave was more than happy to obey. "Count on it," he smiled, and wrapped Kurt up in a warm hug.

Witnessing the two boys together, Paul suddenly understood how close they were, and how well they worked together. "I don't know if I already said this," he observed to Kurt, "but... he's lucky to have a friend like you."

"I'm really glad you're both so close," added Helen. "Dave's a good boy - he deserves to have good people like you in his life." Kurt couldn't help but smile at her sincerity; she clearly had Dave's best interests at heart, and her assertion that Dave was a good boy rang exceptionally true for him.

"You seem to be really good for each other," continued Paul.

Kurt's heart sank, and he broke the hug. _This again? Really, __**again?**_ "Oh god, not you too," he groaned irritably.

Helen had only heard of Kurt's breakup via Dave's Facebook posts, and understood Kurt was nowhere near ready for Dave. She was surprised to find, however, that there were _others_ who'd evidently expressed the suggestion that Kurt and Dave were good couple material. "Us too?" she asked. "How do you mean?"

Kurt sighed in resignation. He hoped he wouldn't have to reiterate the point to anyone else. "I've been told by a few people that Dave and I would make this _great couple,_" he grunted. "It's kinda getting old. He's like a brother to me, and I'm not _dating my brother_."

Despite Dave's best efforts, his face fell slightly at the notion that Kurt was ruling him out entirely. He remained stoic, nonetheless, but Paul had already noticed. "You don't seem like brothers to me," he volunteered encouragingly. "Really close _friends_," he clarified. "Not brothers."

Dave, however, chose to take the heat off Kurt. He had enough to deal with right now. "Dad, it's okay," he interrupted. "Don't push. If Kurt says no... then it's no," he sighed.

Kurt glanced at Dave, and could tell he was reining in his sadness over the point. He felt an unexpected pang of... _something_. Whatever it was he was feeling, it took him entirely by surprise, and only served to confuse him. Why did he feel bad, suddenly? Was it because he felt he was losing Dave?

No, that was nonsense. Or was it? He needed to be sure. "Um... am I actually welcome here?" he asked, a little timidly. "To see Dave, I mean? I, uh, remember I was less than... _cordial_, last time I visited."

"You've been a great friend to David," smiled Helen invitingly. "You can come by any time you want."

"Even after what I...?" It suddenly dawned on Kurt that he'd not exactly been complimentary this same evening. "Uh, could we maybe forget the things I said this evening too?" he winced.

Paul smiled. "In fairness, we probably deserved both barrels, just as we did back in September," he shrugged culpably. "And like I said, David's lucky to have such a good... _friend,_" he noted pointedly with a smirk.

Dave instinctively went to Kurt's defense. "Dad, please," he urged. "Don't."

Once again, Kurt saw the pain Dave was trying unsuccessfully to mask. Something twisted deep within him, and he couldn't understand why. He sought out the first distraction he could think of. "Shall we bring in the rest of your stuff?" he offered eagerly. Dave nodded mutely, his enthusiasm to return home blunted slightly by the knowledge that he and Kurt would never be more than friends. The twist in the pit of Kurt's stomach tightened a little, and it confused the hell out of him.

He'd have to discuss it with someone. But who?

* * *

><p>The return to school had, of course, seen Dave's return to the Titans, as promised by Azimio, Shane and the others who'd been present at <em>the incident<em>, as they were now refering to the assault on Blaine.

Not everyone was happy about that, either. Strando had served out his suspension, and he was back in the locker room - and made his displeasure at Dave's presence crystal clear. "I'm still not happy playing football with a big girl," he commented snidely.

"Says the guy with the biggest rack in the locker room," retorted Dave.

"Eyeing me up already, Karofs_gay_?" retaliated Strando humorlessly.

"Wow, watch out, everyone," mocked Dave. "Oscar fuckin' Wilde's in the room." A few members of the team familiar with the notion of Oscar Wilde's sharp wit chuckled at Dave's putdown.

"You're getting off easy, homo," spat Strando. "I'd be way pissed about the whole suspension thing if that other fag was still around. At least we got rid of one," he noted, glaring at Dave.

Azimio bridled at Strando's homophobic slurs. "Way to talk about your fuckin' teammates, douchebag," he snarled.

"I don't play for _that_ team," snarked Strando.

"No, you play for _this_ one," barked Mike. "Just like the rest of us. You're a Titan. _Just like Dave_."

Strando avoided the point Mike was making. "I'm _nothing_ like him," he snapped.

"Great," shrugged Dave. "That means I'm not dumb or talentless, with stupid hair and enough spare tires to equip a monster truck." More laughter rippled across the locker room. This was barely a battle of wits; Dave was wiping the floor with Strando.

However, from the look in his eyes, Dave could see he'd have to do more than that to knock the chip off his shoulder.

Out on the field, it became clear that things weren't about to snap back into place. Azimio was spooked the first time Dave tackled him, but then inwardly chastised himself for being an idiot about it. Strando refused to go within 10 feet of him, which only had the effect of making a fool of himself, rather than Dave.

Clearly, however, Puck's shock at being one of the targets of Dave's leering had stuck. After a particularly _handsy_ tackle, Puck was spooked. "Dude, did you just grab my _ass_?" he spluttered.

Dave grunted in indignation. "No, I grabbed your _dumbass_. You call that a pass?" he admonished. As with Azimio, Puck felt suitably ashamed of his accusation, and looked contrite. Dave, of course, let it slide.

Slowly but surely, they were getting over the big issue of having a gay team member - apart from one obvious exception. Dave decided to intervene: with the ball in Strando's hands, he decided to take the opportunity the game had presented and bore down on him. He caught up in no time, and threw his full body weight into a tackle, slamming hard into him and bringing him crashing to the ground.

As Dave hopped to his feet, an aggrieved Strando demanded an explanation. "What the fuck, bitch?" he cried.

"I figured you needed some proof that you're playing football with a _big tough strong man_," retorted Dave, challenging Strando's 'big girl' appellation from earlier. "I'm all too happy to keep knocking your fat ass on the grass until you get the message," he snarled.

He almost looked forward to knocking him flat a lot in the weeks to come. He'd be sure to get the point eventually. And if not, he got to body slam a douchebag all the time. Maybe it'd make him leave the team.

_Either way,_ figured Dave, _win-win._

* * *

><p>Glee club was more animated than usual as they awaited Mr Schue's arrival. The transfer of Blaine had them all chattering, and they were all being free with the character assassination. "Think he's working his way through the Warblers?" suggested Santana.<p>

"Ew," replied Finn. "Tana, that's gross."

"But me working my way through the Cheerios would be totally _hot_, no doubt," challenged Santana with an evil glint in her eye, albeit a wicked smirk.

Finn capitulated. "_Not sex objects_, I get it," he sighed.

"He's getting there slowly," grinned Rachel.

"The way you were in the classroom, I'm not surprised!" remarked Quinn. "I don't think I've ever seen you so angry. _I'd_ be scared."

"Can't say I blame her," interjected Kurt. "Blaine was an out-and-out prick. Good riddance."

"And so say all of us," nodded Mike. "I'm not proud of what we did, but it was a means to an end."

Puck snorted at Mike's refusal to relish in their assault. "Dude, I'm totally proud of it," he retorted. "Got in a few good punches myself. Freaky little short ass deserved every bit of it. Serves him right for what he did to Dave."

"I beg your pardon?"

Nobody had noticed Mr Schue enter the room, each of them preoccupied with their gossip - and they weren't sure how much he'd heard. "What is it, Mr Schue?" bluffed Dave.

"What was your part in Blaine Anderson's assault?" demanded Mr Schue. He'd heard enough to put that much together, at least.

_Oh crap,_ thought Dave. Nobody said a word, glancing to each other in a way that inadvertently demonstrated to Mr Schue that they'd all taken part in it.

"What did you do to him?" demanded Mr Schue angrily.

Kurt could stand it no longer. "What he _deserved!_" he shouted furiously. Several members of the glee club sank their heads into their hands, and the air rang with groans of defeat and resignation. He'd basically just confessed, on behalf of all of them, to beating the crap out of another student - a beating that had already been blamed on three other students who had been punished for it.

It was a mess.

"I am absolutely appalled!" cried Mr Schue. "I'm not even sure I can bring myself to take you guys to Regionals after... after you've done _this_," he snapped bitterly.

Rachel was horrified at the threat of effectively disbanding New Directions. "Mr Schue, no!" she cried desperately.

Kurt was apoplectic. "So we don't even get to compete at Regionals, but Blaine and his cronies do?" he barked. "And probably go on to make it to Nationals? What kind of message are you trying to send here, Mr Schue?" he screamed, his rage reaching a crescendo. Kurt's explosion of sound and fury had startled everyone, and the room fell utterly silent. Even Mr Schue had no response to Kurt's tirade.

Quinn chose to fill the silence with her own perspective. "Here's how it is, Mr Schue," she explained calmly. "If you're really that disappointed in us for showing a united front and acting to protect our own, we'll save you the trouble and quit ourselves." Rachel turned to her and desperately started shaking her head, but Quinn raised a hand and threw her a glance to calm her down.

"But it's ironic you'd want to punish us for identifying a toxic element among us, dealing with it in-house and tidying up afterwards," she continued. "Look at what Blaine did! He outed Dave, going against the most cherished rule of Kurt's own code of conduct, he lied about it day in, day out, he tried to stop Dave joining us, he even tried to _sabotage_ us at Sectionals to get at him, he drove him to make an attempt on his own life and he broke Kurt's heart."

Hearing it all listed so clearly gave the entire group pause for thought. He really _had_ caused a considerable amount of trouble. And she hadn't even included making off with Kurt's virginity and keeping him and Dave from communicating _at all_ for a few weeks.

"We may not have gone through the right channels, but I'll argue until I'm blue in the face against anyone who tells us we did the wrong thing," insisted Quinn. "Whatever part of you is telling us he didn't deserve what he got, after all the damage he caused, you need to tell it to shut the hell up because we really don't have the stomach to hear it."

Mr Schue was still too stunned to respond. Rachel took up the argument. "I'm with Quinn, Mr Schue," she added. "Blaine's actions were unconscionable. Dave is as much one of us as Kurt is, and we don't take attacks from _outsiders_ lightly, so I hope you can understand just how unforgivable an attack from _within_ is to us. Do you remember Jesse? What he did? Infiltrating us? Turning on us?" Having been the victim of a bully within New Directions' own ranks once before gave her a unique perspective on events.

"Now imagine he'd driven someone to try to kill themselves."

_Imagine he'd driven me to suicide,_ was the unspoken message. It was a powerful argument.

Finn jumped in to support the two girls, and his teammates in both glee club and the Titans. "It's not just us, Mr Schue. What Blaine did tore a huge hole in the Titans, we were lame ducks without Dave," he explained. "He didn't just hurt Kurt and Dave, or us. He hurt the whole school."

Dave added further meat to their case. "This is the only possible positive outcome, Mr Schue," he insisted. "Without this, Blaine would still have been among us in school even if not in glee club, we'd have seen him every day and it would have been like salt in the wound every time. At least now he's gone, we can start to put all of this behind us." His case set out, Dave finished on an ultimatum. "Or are you gonna drag it back in front of us again?" he dared.

Mr Schue was flabbergasted at their defense of such barbaric behavior. "You can't possibly believe violence is any kind of solution?" he gasped in dismay. Had he misjudged them to that degree?

"There was no solution, Mr Schue," explained Kurt sadly. "This was triage. The damage was already done."

"Mr Schue, you know us," insisted Dave. "This isn't the kind of thing we'd do under normal circumstances, but these were _not_ normal circumstances. Now Blaine's gone, things are going to return to normal. Hell, if anything, this has brought us closer together." A loud chorus of agreement rang out from the rest of the group.

Mr Schue remained disappointed. "As team-building exercises go, I can't honestly say I've seen _worse,_" he scolded in frustration. He paused for thought. "But," he continued finally, "if you assure me this is a one-off thing, I'm willing to move beyond it if you are." A wave of relief swept over the club. "But I never want to see you resorting to this kind of behavior ever again!" added Mr Schue, eager to reassert his leadership over the assembled students.

"No problem there, Mr Schue," smiled Quinn penitently. "We don't particularly _want_ to resort to something like this again." The gathered students voiced their agreement, and swore not to resort to anything so drastic in the future.

For now, at least, Mr Schue was satisfied, but Kurt's reaction lingered in his mind. After an undeniably successful mindstorming period for Regionals, followed by the creation of a rough plan of action in the run-up, Mr Schue asked Kurt to stay behind. Kurt looked immediately to Dave - he'd hoped to spend some time with him for... some reason or other. Math study, singing practice, maybe just hanging out with a friend... something, anyway. He'd find a reason.

"It's cool, Kurt," nodded Dave. "We can catch up later. Call me," he smiled. Kurt nodded with a slight smile, and Dave headed home.

"Mr Schue, what's up?" asked Kurt.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," replied Mr Schue. Kurt regarded him in confusion. What did _that_ mean?

"I'm sorry, Mr Schue," he sighed. "You've lost me."

Mr Schue raised an eyebrow. "To be honest, it's started to feel like we genuinely have," he explained, with obvious concern. "I've never seen you so... so _angry_, Kurt."

"Well, I have recently been through a bitter break-up," noted Kurt pointedly, his voice developing a slight edge.

Mr Schue noticed it. "Are you still dealing with the fallout?" he asked. "Do you miss Blaine?"

"Not in the slightest," sniffed Kurt. "He can _burn_, for all I care."

"You must still care if you want him to burn, Kurt," prompted Mr Schue. "I don't think you're entirely over this."

"I don't want him back," spat Kurt venomously.

"Obviously," smiled Mr Schue. "But something about the break-up is still bothering you. I think you should talk to Ms Pillsbury."

"Really?" snorted Kurt in derision.

"_Really,_" commanded Mr Schue. "If you're still acting up within a week, I'm instructing her to pull you into her office for a chat."

"What!" barked Kurt. "Mr Schue...!"

"It's for your own good, Kurt!" insisted Mr Schue. "I want to get the old Kurt back, and I'm pretty sure you want to _be_ the old Kurt again. I'm willing to go to whatever lengths I have to."

Kurt sighed heavily, annoyed at the turn of conversation. "I'll consider it," he grunted. "Can I go now?"

"Sure," nodded Mr Schue. "Think it over Kurt." Kurt headed off, pulled out his phone and called Dave. It went to voicemail.

"Dave, it's Kurt," he huffed. "I'm calling you, like you _asked_ me. Mr Schue didn't keep me long, so let me know where you are and I'll meet you there."

A little while later, as Kurt sat in his SUV waiting, Dave called back. "You're not answering your phone now?" snapped Kurt.

"Not when I'm driving, no," reprimanded Dave. "I don't wanna end up in a pile-up."

Kurt found himself suitably censured, and dropped the quibble. "Fair point," he replied vacantly. "Where are you?"

"Lima Bean," replied Dave. "After the way glee club started today, I figured I deserved a coffee."

"Ooh, good call," smiled Kurt eagerly. "I'll meet you there shortly. Don't use up all the sugar," he teased, earning him a chuckle from Dave.

Once he'd reached Dave and settled down with a coffee of his own, he recounted Mr Schue's accusations of hotheadedness and his attempts at persuading him to speak to Pillsbury. "He really suggested that?" asked Dave, eyebrows raised.

"I know," nodded Kurt. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"

Dave gave Kurt an inscrutable look. "No, it's not," he answered flatly.

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Are you shitting me?" he blurted.

"When does Kurt Hummel ever talk like that?" challenged Dave, as if attempting to prove Mr Schue's point.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, David!" spluttered Kurt in irritation.

"Kurt, stop!" urged Dave. "Think about how you've been lately."

"What d'you mean, _how I've been?_" rebuked Kurt in accusation.

"You've been off ever since... _the incident_," explained Dave. "You blew up at your dad, you freaked out and shout-texted me when you heard my folks were over for Christmas, then a week later you flipped out at them, and now you're shouting down Mr Schue?"

Kurt didn't respond at first.

"What part of that is _ever_ you?" implored Dave. "You might be sassy - hell, bitchy on occasion, and I even kinda _like_ that about you," he grinned, "but lately you've been channelling Tyler Durden. I half expect you to ask me to _hit you. As hard. As I can_," he added, emphasizing the words as he'd heard Brad Pitt recite them in Fight Club.

The accusation stopped Kurt dead in his tracks. While he'd never seen the movie, he recognized the reference. How _could_ he respond to that? He had to admit, he had felt a bit... _fighty_, lately. Not exactly _Fight-Clubby_, though. "Surely I'm not _that_ bad?" refuted Kurt.

"Not all the time," shrugged Dave. "But sometimes... yeah. And it's not like you. Something's really eating at you. I'm worried, Kurt."

And Kurt could see the worry etched across Dave's face. It was undeniable. Kurt had done that to him. He couldn't keep doing it. What harm would it do to see Pillsbury, really? Well, apart from... hmm. "Have you actually seen some of the leaflets she has?" he recalled. "I swear, I saw one titled 'I Like Dick, Not Jane: the challenges facing a gay teenage boy in Lima'."

Dave fought to stifle his laughter. "You're making that up," he challenged.

"Like I'd make up something like... _that,_" dismissed Kurt haughtily. Dave nodded in agreement; it really wasn't Kurt's style.

"I guess it does have Pillsbury written all over it," he grinned. "I remember being given one titled 'The Antisocial Network: how to cope with cyberbullying'."

"Dear _lord_," grunted Kurt. "And you want me to talk to her?" he sighed.

"Just once," shrugged Dave. "Can't hurt that much, right? Maybe she can even help."

_Unless she's got an even worse leaflet up her sleeve,_ pondered Kurt.

* * *

><p>Not worse, exactly. But 'Mad About My Ex: resolving post-breakup anger issues' wasn't exactly a major improvement. Kurt winced at the title.<p>

"I understand your break-up with Blaine was... particularly unpleasant?" asked Ms Pillsbury gently in an attempt to broach the topic.

"He outed one of my best friends," explained Kurt. "He knew that outing people was something I found unforgivable, and yet he still went ahead and did it." He paused in brief contemplation. "What does that say about what he thought of me?" he pondered aloud, miserably.

"Perhaps Blaine wasn't thinking things through?" offered Ms Pillsbury. "Do you honestly believe he did this to hurt you?"

Kurt frowned. Blaine's actions made no sense at all. Without a motive, they seemed reckless. Crazy. Thoughtless. It just didn't seem like Blaine.

_Mind you, he did try to wreck Dave's chances at Sectionals._ "I honestly can't figure out why he did this," he sighed.

Ms Pillsbury nodded. "The actions of others are always more difficult to comprehend when you can't understand why they did them," she advised. "Perhaps you should confront him about it. I think you need answers before you can achieve some kind of closure here."

Kurt's shoulders sagged. He didn't want to see Blaine ever again. Still, maybe a screaming match would be cathartic. "Maybe," he sighed. "It just really burns that he lashed out at Dave like that."

"Could he have been jealous?" suggested Ms Pillsbury.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. "That's crazy," he refuted. "Dave and I don't think of each other that way. Well," he admitted, "Dave has, uh, _feelings_ for me," he elaborated, suddenly blushing, "but he wouldn't act on them."

"I see," noted Ms Pillsbury, seeing a new avenue of enquiry. "Can you tell me when your recent bursts of anger have flared up?"

Kurt covered the recent outbursts - his father after staying the night with Dave, Christmas Day upon hearing that the Karofskys were spending the day with Dave, the Karofsky household after Dave's initial traumatic moment of recollection and the choir room in indignation at potentially being barred from Regionals, all but giving the Warblers, and thus Blaine, a free pass.

Ms Pillsbury saw a pattern immediately: Dave, then Dave, then Dave again, then the guy who hurt Dave. And tangentially Dave. "I'm wondering how big an influence Dave Karofsky is on these flashes of anger," she mused aloud.

"I don't like seeing bad things happen to good people," he insisted. "And Dave is a good person."

"Wasn't he the boy who used to bully you?" asked Ms Pillsbury.

She couldn't have imagined it would spur a reaction. "What the hell?" spluttered Kurt. "Is that the only thing people actually _see_, still? He's been helping me with my math study, he's helped Finn get fitter, he helped us win Sectionals, and don't even get me started on the crapsack his life turned into after he was outed!" he barked. "He tried to _kill_ himself, remember?" The longer his verbal assault continued, the shriller he became.

Ms Pillsbury could see she'd hit a nerve. She chose to probe further, as delicately as she could. "You seem particularly concerned for David's welfare," she observed.

Kurt eyed her with suspicion. "You are _not_ going to tell me we'd make a good couple," he challenged.

The thought had, in fairness, crossed Ms Pillsbury's mind - or, at least, glanced off it. "That's entirely your decision, Kurt," she opined. "However, I'd recommend against it; until your issues with Blaine are resolved, you probably shouldn't get involved with anyone else. It wouldn't be fair to them."

Kurt's mouth fell open. For some reason, the notion that he _shouldn't_ be with Dave came as a shock. Which only served to confuse him more: surely that was obvious? So why did it seem so strange to hear someone say it?

"I'm not saying you should remain single forever, obviously," assured Ms Pillsbury, keen to protect Kurt's self esteem from a body blow at a time when it would likely cause him more harm than usual.

"Oh, of course not," nodded Kurt, regaining his composure. "It'll... it'll just take time. Of course."

"The sooner you get Blaine out of your system, however," added Ms Pillsbury, "the sooner you'll be... ready, to consider someone else."

"I'll bear that in mind," nodded Kurt. "I could probably do with finding out what the hell was going on in his head."

"And, since you raised the suggestion," smiled Ms Pillsbury, "I think you and Dave would actually make a nice couple."

Kurt groaned under his breath. "Can I go now?" he sighed.

"Of course," smiled Ms Pillsbury. "I hope I've been of help to you, Kurt."

"Apart from the _nice couple_ thing," huffed Kurt, "yes. Yes, I think you have. Thank you, Ms Pillsbury."

"Don't forget your leaflet," noted Ms Pillsbury, gesturing toward the folded piece of paper on the desk.

"Thanks," Kurt winced as he picked it up and left.

He was so distracted over the notion of himself with Dave - as if considering a brother figure as potential dating material was even rational - that he forgot to drop the leaflet in the trash.

* * *

><p>Dalton was exactly how he remembered it.<p>

He'd spoken to Dave about Ms Pillsbury's idea, and Dave had pleaded to come along, but Kurt had insisted he face it alone. Dave was, of course, worried that Blaine would somehow win him over with smooth talk and prettiness - cue an almighty _bitch, please_ face from Kurt so severe it almost made Dave duck and cover.

And now he was walking the halls, alone, in search of music.

There was bound to be music. The Warblers were like rock stars around here, and Blaine would almost certainly have weaseled his way back in.

_No fucking justice,_ thought Kurt angrily.

Sure enough, eventually he heard singing. They'd evidently made plans to throw in a little Justin Timberlake at Regionals.

_I can see us holding hands  
><em>_Walking on the beach, our toes in the sand  
><em>_I can see us on the countryside  
><em>_Sitting on the grass, laying side by side  
><em>_You could be my baby, let me make you my lady  
><em>_Girl, you amaze me  
><em>_Ain't gotta do nothing crazy  
><em>_See, all I want you to do is be my love  
><em>_(Love) My love  
><em>_(Love) My love  
><em>_(Love) Ain't another woman that can take your spot, my love  
><em>_(Love) My love  
><em>_(Love) My love  
><em>_(Love) Ain't another woman that can take your spot, my love_

"Guys, it's Kurt!" Trent was the first one to spot him, followed by Nick and Jeff. Blaine was rooted to the spot in shock - he'd never expected Kurt to show up there.

"Oh my god, Kurt!" yelped Jeff excitedly. He'd been closer to Nick, Trent and Jeff while he'd been at Dalton, so theirs was always going to be the most vocal reaction - except, perhaps, for Blaine's.

Or perhaps not. He remained stationary, as though struck.

"We have unfinished business, Blaine," intoned Kurt. His voice echoed around the common room. Blaine remained in place, still bewildered by Kurt's presence.

"I said I didn't care, that it didn't matter," continued Kurt. "I was wrong."

"Kurt?" blurted Blaine, looking slightly dazed.

"I still care," explained Kurt. "I care a _lot_."

Blaine completely misunderstood, and broke into a run toward Kurt. "Oh, sweetheart...!" he cried.

"_No!_" snapped Kurt, shattering Blaine's illusions. "Stop that right now."

Blaine slowed to a walk and continued toward Kurt. "But babe..." he pleaded.

Kurt refused his romantic advances. "Not babe," he instructed. "Not sweetheart, not darling, not _anything_. It's not _you_ I care about, it's what you _did_. I can't get past that until I know exactly what the hell drove you to do... _that_," he spat.

The Warblers watched on, confused. Blaine had told them New Directions had turned Kurt against them and he'd been forced out, brutally. If that had been true, he wouldn't have run to Kurt, and now Kurt was talking about what _Blaine_ did?

Blaine desperately tried to explain his actions away. "He was coming between us, Kurt," he pleaded. "He was taking you away from me, I had to do something!"

Kurt was almost paralyzed with an escalating sense of rage. "..._what,_" he hissed furiously, struggling to believe that Blaine had outed Dave merely to get him out of the way so he could have Kurt all to himself.

"I couldn't just stand by and lose you!" begged Blaine. "It was for us, Kurt! I did it for _us_!"

Blaine was convinced that by explaining his actions as an effort to protect their relationship, Kurt would understand. The problem was that Kurt understood all too well; he understood that Blaine had outed Dave for no better reasons than jealousy, spite and cowardice.

He didn't even notice his fist moving until it was already in flight, and barely felt the impact on Blaine's jaw. His fist had knocked Blaine off his feet almost before his conscious mind had registered his arm moving. "How dare you put my name to this?" screeched Kurt, infused with rage. "_You don't ever get to put my name on what you've done!_" he shrieked.

Nick was horrified. Kurt had just... _struck_ someone. Struck _Blaine_. Was Blaine telling the truth? Had Kurt been turned against him? Had he become... violent? "Jesus, Kurt, what the hell are you doing?" he cried.

Jeff, too, was horrified at Kurt's behavior. "Kurt, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to ask you to go," he demanded. "We can't have violence here, Dalton's supposed to be a haven from such things!"

Kurt looked at Blaine, still on the floor, with utter contempt. "You haven't even told them why you felt you had to transfer, have you?" he barked. "You fucking _coward!_"

Trent, unwilling to merely accept without question Kurt's reaction to Blaine's... _whatever_ he'd done, came to Kurt's defense. "Guys, hold on, this isn't like Kurt. We should hear his side," he urged. He turned to Kurt. "Kurt, what did he do?" he asked.

Blaine looked up at Kurt, suddenly worried. "Kurt... don't do this..." he burbled.

"Why not?" snarled Kurt. "_You did._"

"He did _what_, exactly?" asked Thad, trying to piece it all together. Clearly Blaine had done _something_, but how did it merit a punch to the face?

Kurt spilled the beans to the assembled group. "He outed a student at McKinley," he revealed bitterly. "As a consequence, the student was kicked out of his home _and_ the football team, and bullied so badly he ended up hanging himself. It's pure chance someone got to him in time, or he'd be dead today."

Nick recalled word of an attempted suicide back in October. "Holy shit. I heard a rumor about that!" he gasped. "That kid was at McKinley?"

Trent struggled with the revelation that Blaine had carried out such a heinous act. "Blaine?" he implored. "Please, tell us he's wrong!"

Blaine snapped at the injustice of Dave being on the verge of ruining things for him again, and lashed out. "He deserved it!" he barked. "It was _Dave Karofsky!_ The same _bully_ that drove Kurt here in the first place!"

Blaine's argument fell spectacularly flat. "How does that even justify this?" gasped Jeff. "Blaine, how could you do this to someone else after what you went through?"

Kurt was still seething about Blaine's actions. "Jealousy. You heard him. It's that simple," he thundered. "He was _jealous_ of the friendship I had with Dave."

A tall Warbler Kurt didn't recognize spoke up in Blaine's defense. "Well, if you and this Dave were getting together behind his back..." he challenged in a snide tone.

"We _never_ did!" barked Kurt. "Dave would never try to steal me away from someone else. _He_ respects me enough not to do that."

Jeff had heard enough. His membership of a group that would permit a person like Blaine to be one of them suddenly felt unbearable. "I... I can't be a Warbler any more if it means tolerating something like this," he stammered desolately. "I wish to resign from..."

"_Hold it,_" called Trent. Jeff fell immediately silent, but still looked miserable.

"I'd like to raise a motion," continued Trent, counting the Warblers in the room. "And it looks like we have enough of us here to cast a majority vote."

Nick figured out Trent's point in no time. "I think I know where you're going with this, Trent," he nodded.

"You want to stop me?" challenged Trent.

Nick smiled to him. "By all means, continue," he beamed.

Trent nodded, all business. "All in favor of expelling Anderson from the Warblers, raise your hand," he declared.

Blaine was aghast. They were _expelling_ him from the Warblers? "Are you out of your minds?" he cried. "You'll never get through Regionals without me!"

Thad shook his head. Ego had always been one of Blaine's big problems. "_Really_ not helping your case there, Blaine," he sighed, casting him a withering glare. He raised a hand, along with most of the other Warblers.

The tall boy who had spoken up for Blaine left his hand down. He regarded Blaine with an air of interest. Curiosity, even.

Trent counted up the raised hands and nodded. "Motion carried. Anderson... you're not a Warbler any more," he declared, glaring at Blaine. "You need to leave us."

Blaine was livid. "This is a fucking _kangaroo_ court," he snarled under his breath.

"Perhaps it is," shrugged Trent coldly. "Feel free to keep bitching about it. Somewhere else." A few chuckles rippled around the room. Blaine stormed off in high dudgeon. His sole supporter followed immediately after him.

"Way to take sides, Sebastian," called Thad derisively.

As the situation began to sink in, along with the news of Blaine's disgraceful actions at McKinley, Jeff mulled things over. "I have to admit, there's a powerful irony about Blaine, of all people, being a bully," he mused. "And to another bully, of all people..."

"Dave isn't a bully!" snapped Kurt, throwing himself to Dave's defense.

Trent spoke up in support of Jeff. In terms of cold, hard logic, the facts were undeniable. "Well... he _did_ drive you here, Kurt," he volunteered.

Kurt shook his head in dismay. "He stopped being a bully last year! He's a nice guy now," he insisted.

Jeff and Trent shared a look. Trent flicked an eyebrow up as Kurt's behavior set alarm bells ringing. Jeff fought the urge to smirk. "Yeah, but he threatened to kill you..." he emphasized, quite deliberately.

"Oh my god, will you stop?" gasped Kurt, exasperated by their refusal to look beyond Dave's past transgressions. "It's all in the past, and I've long since forgiven him. Why can't you do the same?"

Trent was trying desperately to keep the smile off his face. "Because we care about you!" he continued. "We don't want you to end up being pushed around by someone like..."

"_For god's sake, stop this!_" interrupted Kurt agitatedly. "He's the one on the receiving end!"

Nick had been watching the conversation unfold, and suddenly began to see what Jeff and Trent had already figured out. "Wow, Kurt," he chuckled.

Kurt was distracted by Nick's inexplicable interjection. "'Wow' what, exactly?" he huffed.

"You're being pretty protective of _Dave_ there," nodded Nick, suddenly smiling. Trent and Jeff each broke into a grin.

"I'm defending a close friend, why wouldn't I be?" challenged Kurt.

Trent decided to throw a few buns to the elephant in the room. "Maybe because he's more than a friend?" he grinned. Broadly.

Kurt's right hand instinctively reached up to his face, as if it may fall off in protest. "You've _got_ to be kidding," he drawled.

Jeff joined the choir. "You didn't just charge to his defense, Kurt," he observed. "You practically _flew_. At _Mach 2_," he guffawed.

"I told you, he's a close friend," insisted Kurt. "And. That's. _All,_" he added forcefully.

Nick wasn't convinced. "You wouldn't be this... _ardent_ in your defense of him if he was merely some friend, Kurt," he pointed out simply.

"He means a lot to me!" argued Kurt.

Trent's grin grew ever broader. "That's... kind of our point," he giggled.

Kurt's eyes rolled like worlds in space. "Not like _that!_" he grunted.

"Does he know that?" contested Jeff. "Cos you seem to have some really... _intense_ feelings there," he noted.

"Of course he knows," shrugged Kurt. "You can ask him yourself at Regionals."

The three boys were stunned by the revelation. "Wait, he's gonna be there?" gasped Nick.

"He's with us," explained Kurt. "He's our baritone."

And the hits just kept on coming. "Holy shit, he _sings_?" blurted Jeff in amazement.

"Oh my god!" squealed Trent excitedly. "I can't wait to hear him!"

"He sounds incredible," enthused Kurt. "His crooning is sublime, he has such a rich voice. You're gonna love him."

Jeff's grin reasserted itself. "Just like you do?" he beamed. Trent, Jeff and Nick all burst into a fit of giggles.

Kurt found himself briefly speechless in outrage. "I'm... I'm _going_ now," he spluttered, utterly peeved, turning on his heel and walking out.

"Tell Dave we can't wait to meet him at Regionals," called Thad, also grinning, "and we wish him all the best!" Kurt waved the boys goodbye with one raised middle finger, without turning around.

"Ouch," chuckled Nick. "Guys, I think we pissed him off a little."

"Totally crazy about him," chuckled Jeff.

"Bet you fifty dollars they're together by Regionals," proposed Trent.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Ooh, by _Regionals_? That's a tough call," he balked.

Jeff decided to give Nick a gentle push. "You taking the bet, Nick?" he grinned.

Nick paused. "Yeah, I'll take that," he decided finally, shaking hands with Trent who was chuckling to himself.

"Easiest fifty ever," he grinned.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey, look at that! End of the chapter, and Kurt's not even crying. ;o)_

_And wow, but the pirates are busy in Lima. Burt, Carole, Finn, Azimio, Ms Pillsbury, Paul and Helen Karofsky... and three Warblers, too. Anyone might think they could see something coming... :o)_

_Reviews == love. Go on, tell me it's unrealistic nonsense and watch what happens.  
>[attaches "no1curr", "I ain't even mad" and "I will go down with this ship" gifs] :D<em>

_-Liam_


	15. What Are You Fighting For?

_**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: What Are You Fighting For?  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks again dude!)  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T (for language and mild violence)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives, sweet boy kisses ::gasp::  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 11,433 (insert usual disclaimer :) )  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: Three weeks down the line, Dave's feelings for Kurt are as strong as ever... but Kurt is still trying to decipher his feelings for Dave. Can his friends and family help him figure it out?_

_A/N: Another 10,000+ word beast. Ah, but it's worth it when [SPOILER] _[SPOILER] with _[SPOILER]__. *ahem*_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: What Are You Fighting For?<strong>

The drive back from Dalton had given Kurt enough time to shake off his irritation at Jeff, Trent and Nick's teasing. Their comments were still swimming around in Kurt's head, and he'd become more contemplative.

_You're being pretty protective of __**Dave**__ there. Maybe because he's more than a friend? You didn't just charge to his defense, Kurt. You practically __**flew**__. You wouldn't be this... __**ardent**__ in your defense of him if he was merely some friend. You seem to have some really... __**intense**__ feelings there._

Nonsense. All of it. Dave was merely a kindred spirit who'd been through a really horrible time. That was clearly all there was to it. Dave had really rehabilitated his image - he certainly looked impressive in the outfits they wore at Sectionals - but that just meant he'd be more likely to find someone else to make him ha...ppy.

That twinge again. _Why?_ Kurt sighed and put it down to his own lack of a boyfriend. The idea of Dave finding someone merely made him feel a little envious, now he himself was single.

The thoughts were still dancing around his mind when he finally got home. "Hey kid," greeted Burt. "How did the big confrontation go?"

"Pretty satisfyingly, actually," noted Kurt, perking up at the recollection of Blaine's comeuppance. "Blaine hadn't told them he'd outed Dave, and when they heard about it they kicked his sorry ass out of the Warblers."

"Ouch," chuckled Burt.

"Yeah, and then they ridiculously started trying to pair me off with _Dave_," sighed Kurt. "It was... it was... _nrgh_," he growled in annoyance. He couldn't even describe how nonsensical it was.

Burt raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he smirked.

"I know, it's crazy," huffed Kurt. "Still, it got me thinking. Dave's come a long way in the past few months. I doubt it'll be long before he finds someone himself."

Burt's eyebrows furrowed at Kurt's unique interpretation of Dave's situation. "You think?" he argued. "I don't think he's over you yet. I see the way he looks at you, son," he added, fixing his gaze upon Kurt pointedly.

Kurt groaned. He hated that Dave was still pining for him; maybe he was merely _hoping_ Dave would get over him so he wouldn't feel so bad about it all. "I know. I know," he winced as he flopped down on the sofa. "Oh god, it's such a mess. I mean, even _if_ I'd seen it sooner, I was with Blaine! And I was there for him, like, I dunno, to offer support, to be there to lean on... to be his shield, I guess," he shrugged. "And then I turn out to be the now-very-much-ex-boyfriend of the _bastard_ who outed him. Out of _jealousy_. It almost feels like if I hadn't spent so much time with him before this all started, Blaine wouldn't have gotten jealous, Dave wouldn't have been outed and everything would have been fine." He leaned back on the sofa, his guilt needling him. "I kinda feel some measure of responsibility over it all," he confessed.

Burt refused to allow Kurt to take responsibility for the choices which were clearly Blaine's, and Blaine's alone. "Kid, that's ridiculous," he disputed. "You didn't make Blaine do those things to Dave." He paused briefly, and decided to raise the point he'd wanted to bring up since the brief period when Kurt and Dave had been out of touch with each other. "I think you're letting your conscience get the better of you because he means so much to you," he noted carefully.

Kurt eyed his father suspiciously. "What d'you mean, _means so much_?" he queried.

"I see the way you look at him, too, son," shrugged Burt.

Kurt wasn't aware he'd looked at Dave in any way other than... actually, how _had_ he been looking at Dave? He'd never really given it any thought. "What? No!" he stammered. "I don't... I don't look at him in a... _way_, there's... no, we're just... we're just friends," he insisted.

"Which is why you worry about him all the time," observed Burt. "Why you spend so much time with him. Why you enjoy his company, look for reasons to hang out with him, like seeing him happy, feel bad when he's miserable... need I go on?"

Kurt hadn't considered his behavior around Dave before, and each point Burt made did, in fairness, sound like the way people behaved when they loved someone. Well... he _did_ love Dave. Like family. He wasn't _in love_ with him, though. "Dad, no! I could never be with Dave, he's... he's too close," he contended. "We're almost like... he's like a brother to me. He's like another Finn." It seemed like a pretty solid argument to Kurt. "Except gay, and smart," he added with a smirk.

"Right," noted Burt, trying to rein in the slight edge of scorn from his voice. "You remember how you used to feel about Finn?"

Kurt screwed his eyes shut in irritation. _Yes, and that's precisely why I'm not making the same mistake again._ "Oh god, not you too!" he groaned. "I've had people telling me for like the past _month_ or something that we _look cute together_, that we'd make this _great couple_, that we'd _work so well together_," he sighed, shaking his head. "Even Azimio and Finn both tried to pull it on me, and I didn't buy it from them either. They were drunk," he observed disdainfully.

It only served to convince Burt that there really was something there. "Maybe you should," he shrugged. "You ever think they could be on to something?"

Kurt facepalmed. "Dad. _Drunk_," he grunted.

"Kurt. _Jocks_," replied Burt with a smirk.

Burt's sudden mention of jocks made little sense to Kurt. What on earth was he getting at? "...I'm sorry, what?" he asked, his head tilting in curiosity.

"They've always been a bit of a weakness of yours, kid," smiled Burt, as though imparting some long-held pearl of wisdom.

Kurt's jaw dropped as he turned bright pink. Did his dad - his own freaking _father_ - tell him he had a... a _type_? "_Dad!_" he squeaked in horror. "N-no, ju-just... just no, and _stop_, and I, I, _I am not discussing this with you_," he gibbered as he scampered to the sanctuary of his room, away from the mortifying situation of hearing his own _father_ discussing his taste in... _other boys_.

Burt couldn't help but chuckle at Kurt's minor freak-out. He saw it coming, but figured Kurt needed a psychological kick up the rump. "Fine," he shrugged, following the retreating Kurt. "Then discuss it with _someone_. Carole. Mercedes. Rachel. Whoever. But talk about it with someone, Kurt!" he urged, calling from the base of the staircase as Kurt had scuttled upstairs to his room.

Burt chuckled to himself. "Well, at least he's not angry," he mused to himself with a smile.

* * *

><p>Mr Schue had decided it was time to throw out something challenging to the group. Boys vs girls had been done before, but this time it had to follow a theme - specifically, love songs, as Valentine's Day was only two weeks away, and Regionals only a week or two after that. But there was a twist.<p>

The whiteboard had a word written on it. _Counterpoint_. "Two songs that seem to oppose each other," explained Mr Schue. "I want both groups to find a pair of songs which, while giving out conflicting messages, can be put together musically."

"What, like _Back To Black_ versus _A Whiter Shade Of Pale_?" asked Puck.

Mr Schue winced inwardly. "Not exactly," he explained. "Think of two songs that say two directly opposing things - say, one song whose message is of a love that will last forever, set against a song about the loss of love, or a relationship coming to an end."

Santana had an idea, and chimed in. "Mr Schue, how about one that's all about not knowing how someone feels about you, and the other saying 'this is how you figure it out'?" she asked. The other girls seemed unclear about her point, but decided to go with it to see what she had in mind.

"That sounds like a decent approach," nodded Mr Schue encouragingly.

"Awesome!" grinned Santana. "Girls, lets huddle," she commanded.

The boys were still trying to come up with ideas. "It's a pretty cool assignment," noted Mike. "It'll be cooler if we can actually come up with something," he conceded, unable to conjure up a single idea in the moment.

"The girls appear to be way ahead of us," sighed Kurt. "Maybe I should consider defecting again?" He was only half-joking.

"Hey!" snarked Dave. "You're not the only gay on the team, remember."

"No offense, dude," grinned Puck, "but I seriously doubt you could rock the dress." Everyone chuckled at the bizarre image of Dave in a frock.

As the meeting of glee club went on, Mike found himself musing over the interaction between Kurt and Dave. They seemed much closer since Blaine had left. Dave's feelings he already knew of - hell, who _didn't_ know by now? - but Kurt... hmm.

_No way. They'd have got it together by now, it's been over a month. And Kurt seems to be well over Blaine. Maybe he's just not into Dave like that._

"You're imagining them together, aren't you?" grinned Finn to Mike suddenly, keeping his voice down to ensure Kurt and Dave didn't hear.

Mike was taken aback by Finn's suggestion. He _had_ been imagining it, but it didn't quite make sense. "I tried," he shrugged, "but if they wanted to be together they would be by now, wouldn't they?"

Finn grunted in frustration. "Kurt's got this whole _brotherly_ thing going on with Dave," he sighed. "He doesn't see it's the only thing getting in the way of them being together. They totally want to be with each other, dude."

Mike raised an sceptical eyebrow. "You know that for sure?" he disputed.

"For sure!" whispered Finn, trying not to become animated. "Kurt's almost become like his _protector_ or something. He's the first to defend him against pretty much anything."

"Like you'd do for, say, a _brother_?" observed Mike sardonically.

"There's _way_ more to it than that, dude!" insisted Finn. "Dave got this new top for Christmas that looked pretty good on him, and Kurt was nuts about it. And you know how Kurt is about clothes and fashion and stuff."

Mike reflected on the point. Kurt _was_ rather particular about clothing. It had to be pretty special to impress Kurt... unless the person _wearing_ it was pretty special... "You've got a point there," nodded Mike. "Maybe there is something there. So why doesn't Dave just ask him out?"

"Beats me," sighed Finn. "Guy's crazy about him. I'd have made a move by now."

"Maybe he needs a push?" suggested Mike. "Think we could use Mr Schue's latest project to send a message?"

"Dude, totally!" hissed Finn excitedly. "But... what if Kurt ends up singing with us?" he thought aloud.

Mike's eyes lit up. "I've got an idea," he grinned. "I'll speak to Mr Schue before I head off."

By the end of the afternoon's meeting of glee club, the boys still hadn't come up with an idea for a mashup - except Finn and Mike. As promised, Mike took Mr Schue to one side and put a suggestion to him.

"You think he should perform alone?" asked Mr Schue, surprised that the boys would turn their back on Kurt.

"So does Finn, Mr Schue. I know how it sounds," admitted Mike. "But look at it from another angle: it's a chance for him to shine, it gets around the big song-and-dance about which team Kurt ends up on, and we know he can handle it himself because he did that Victor/Victoria number once. It'd be like a moment for him to take the spotlight."

Mr Schue raised an eyebrow. The argument was pretty strong, and had clearly been polished to a dazzling shine before being raised. "What do _you_ get out of it, Mike?" he asked shrewdly.

"A chance to send a message to Kurt," smiled Mike.

Mr Schue figured the message would be benign, but needed more. "Using your mashup, I take it?" he guessed. "What do you have planned?"

"We're going all 60s," elaborated Mike. "Dusty Springfield vs the Beatles. I think you'll like it."

Mr Schue nodded. "Sounds promising," he smiled. "I hope Kurt appreciates it."

"So do we, Mr Schue," ventured Mike, exhaling nervously. "So do we."

* * *

><p>Kurt and Dave sat together in the Lima Bean, sipping their drinks as they picked apart the assignment they'd been set. "He's given us themes before, but he's never hit us with a triple whammy like this," mused Kurt. "I have to say, I'm impressed."<p>

"The girls seemed to dive right into it," observed Dave. "What d'you think they've got planned?"

"God knows," shrugged Kurt. "Can't wait to hear it, though, whatever it is."

Dave regarded his friend, noting his eagerness and interest in the assignment. "Your trip to Dalton must have gone pretty well," he theorized. "I don't think you've shouted at anyone for days."

Kurt chuckled. "Yeah, I think finding out that Blaine was simply jealous just made me lose that last little bit of respect for him," he explained. "Made it easier to just forget him. Didn't seem worth my time any more, y'know?"

"Good for you!" grinned Dave. "I hated seeing you so... _angsty_."

"I...!" spluttered Kurt, indignant. "I was not _angsty_, I was merely pissed."

"Fine," sighed Dave in amusement, rolling his eyes. "Angsty with a side order of _rage_."

Kurt glared at Dave in mild irritation. "Oh, whatever," he huffed, earning him a chuckle from Dave.

"So you'll be okay seeing him again at Regionals?" he asked.

"Oh, he probably won't be there," explained Kurt. "They kicked him out of the Warblers," he added with a self-satisfied smirk.

Dave gasped in amazement. Blaine had _really_ fallen. "Wow," he guffawed. "Sucks to be him. _Really_ sucks."

"Well, it's past history now," smiled Kurt.

"Only downside is you're single again," shrugged Dave. _No. Stop bringing that up. He doesn't wanna jump into another relationship just as he's gotten over someone else._

"I'm sure I'll struggle by on my own," replied Kurt airily. _Ugh. I forgot about that. Oh well, at least I have friends to hang out with. And Dave. Wait, why am I singling out Dave? He's a friend too. Ehh, whatever._

"I'm sure you'll thrive," grinned Dave. "Here's to Kurt Hummel Classic - back for good and better than ever!" he declared, raising his cup in a toast.

"I'll drink to that!" cheered Kurt, clinking his cup against Dave's.

_Not that I'm biased or anything, of course,_ considered Dave, Kurt's positivity holding his own wistful ponderings at the back of his mind.

* * *

><p>The girls had been busy... and quick off the mark. Santana had proposed a mashup of Whitney Houston's <em>How Will I Know<em> and Cher's _The Shoop Shoop Song_ - one song asking "how do I know if he loves me", the other saying "this is how you know he loves you". It was perfect.

And they dedicated it to Kurt... _and Dave_, to much eyerolling and facepalming from both boys. Dave couldn't suppress a chuckle, however, when Rachel substituted the lyric "oh no, that's just his arms" with the phrase "oh no, but _wow those arms_", giving him a blatant leer as she did it.

All the same, Kurt was unimpressed with the message. "Guys, this is getting old," he sighed.

"How can it get old when it's never even started?" snarked Santana.

"I never would have said this a few months back," admitted Mercedes, "but you boys would make a sweet pair." Kurt shook his head in dismay, astonished at the inexplicable groundswell of support for a pairing he himself couldn't even envisage.

"Look," sighed Kurt. "As sweet as the gesture was, I'm afraid the message is irrelevant. Dave and I?" He glanced across to Dave, who was trying not to give his own feelings away. "It's just not happening, I'm sorry."

Rachel was dumbfounded. "_Why?_" she spluttered. "Kurt, he'd be great for you!"

Dave jumped in to save Kurt. "Guys, it's his decision," he urged. "Pressuring him won't help anyone." Again, that masked sadness in Dave's eyes. Again, that... that _twinge_. Kurt desperately tried to rationalize it, and figured he knew how it felt being with someone you couldn't have so it was... what?

Sympathetic heartache? Kurt considered the concept. _Yeah, that makes sense as much as anything else,_ he figured.

The girls, meanwhile, were disappointed that Dave, of all people, had shot down their overtures of support for the two boys as a couple. Santana, in particular, was bewildered. She knew full well that Dave would have crawled over broken glass for Kurt, so why was he resisting now? It all seemed to have failed, despite their lofty expectations.

On merit, nonetheless, it was a hell of a performance. The boys had their work cut out - but Mike and Finn had already come up with the basis of a performance already and needed to discuss it with Dave and the others in private. As proposed, Mr Schue brought up Kurt's role in the assignment.

"Kurt, the guys have asked that you fly this one solo," explained Mr Schue. "Mike and Finn in particular. They think you deserve the chance to outshine both groups, and after your performance at Sectionals I'm inclined to agree with them. Think you can come up with something alone?" Mr Schue chose his words shrewdly, aiming for Kurt to take them as a challenge.

It worked. "Be careful what you wish for, boys," he snarked. "You might end up in _third_ place in this one." Mike and Finn chuckled at the banter.

Dave, however, was disappointed not to have the chance to sing a love song with Kurt. He'd been looking forward to that, even if it wasn't going to change things between them. He'd have enjoyed pretending, just for one song. "Guys, what gives?" he asked as they crowded round to discuss their plans.

"We've got the perfect mashup for you, dude," whispered Finn excitedly.

Dave's confusion escalated. "For... _me_?" he asked.

"Trust me, Kurt's gonna love it!" enthused Mike.

"Wait, what does it have to do with Kurt?" asked Dave, still mystified.

"You'll be singing Dusty Springfield's _You Don't Have To Say You Love Me_, and we'll be mixing it up with The Beatles' _She Loves You_," explained Finn.

"Only we'll be singing _**He**__ Loves You_," grinned Mike. The other boys warmed to the theme.

"Holy crap, that's awesome!" gasped Puck. "Dave, dude, you _gotta_ do this!"

"Wait," paused Artie. "You and Finn came up with this?"

"Mike did," shrugged Finn. "He suggested it to me, then convinced Mr Schue to talk Kurt into going it alone. It's gonna be kickass."

"Dude, I dunno if I should do this to Kurt," resisted Dave. "Doesn't seem fair to spring this on him."

"You wanna win him over, right?" urged Mike. "I'm telling you, serenading him is the best way! And you'll be telling him 'you don't have to love me back, just spend time with me' and we'll be all 'he's nuts about you, go for it'. I'm telling you," insisted Mike, "this is gonna work!"

Dave glanced over to Kurt, deep in thought about his own mashup, and let out a resigned sigh. If he couldn't pretend he and Kurt were together for a song, he could pretend he had the right to sing his feelings to him. "Screw it," he shrugged. "I guess it's worth a shot. I just hope Kurt doesn't go nuts and give me the silent treatment again," he gulped.

"If he does, we'll take the blame," assured Finn. "We'll tell him we railroaded you into it."

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?" noted Dave with a wry smile.

"Not a chance!" affirmed Puck.

"Hell no," added Artie. "We've got your back, man. You can do this."

_I hope you're right, guys,_ thought Dave.

Later, as he and Azimio prepared for an evening of Call Of Duty in Dave's bedroom, Azimio revealed he, too, was fully behind the plan. "Finn told me what you got planned, dude," he enthused eagerly.

"Had a feeling he'd mention it," sighed Dave.

"Dude, you can't lose!" assured Azimio. "You'll be serenadin' the dude! He digs that shit, I know it!"

"If you say so," grunted Dave. "What d'you think of the songs they chose?"

"Man, I never took Mike for a 60s kinda guy," shrugged Azimio, "but I think he's nailed it."

"You think, huh?"

"I know it, man."

Dave still had reservations. "Man, I just hope Kurt doesn't feel like they're... _pestering_ him about it," he sighed. "He says he's been hearing it a lot lately."

Azimio chuckled. "Yeah, I brought it up on the way home after we watched Brokeback," he grinned. "Brotherly, my fat ass."

"Dude, you did what?" spluttered Dave.

"Chill, he was cool with it," shrugged Azimio. "Di'nt agree for a second, but he was cool. Who else has been tellin' him?"

"He didn't say," shrugged Dave. "But my mom and dad seem to be on board. The girls in glee club dedicated a group number to us too."

"Oh man," grinned Azimio. "What was it?"

"Mashup of _How Will I Know_ and _The Shoop Shoop Song_."

Azimio looked puzzled. "How's that last one go again?" he asked.

"You remember," sighed Dave, singing out the melody quietly. "_If you wanna know, if he loves you so, it's in his kiss,_" he hummed bashfully.

Azimio burst out laughing - not at Dave's rendition, but at the message the girls were sending Kurt. "Man, they may as well have pushed you two together screaming '_now kiss!_'" he guffawed.

Dave grunted in annoyance. "Shut up, asshole," he huffed. "Wish I hadn't told you now."

"Hey, don't you see, though?" pointed out Azimio. "The ranks are growin', dude. Er'body wants to see you and Kurt get it on." He paused. "Wait, that's not what I meant," he recanted steadily, grimacing.

"_Jesus,_" hissed Dave in alarm. "Can we just play the fuckin' game?" The last thing he wanted to think of was getting _that_ far with Kurt. He'd all but resigned himself to getting nowhere; he was Kurt's friend, and that was all. Someday, he'd reach the point where he didn't have to keep reminding himself of that.

Today wasn't it.

* * *

><p>"Kurt, could I have a word?" asked Dave nervously as they headed toward the choir room. The day of the boys' performance had come, and he was worried sick Kurt would take it badly, so he'd chosen to head the problem off by warning Kurt of what was to come.<p>

"You've got something planned for me, haven't you?" sighed Kurt, a little wearily.

Dave's face fell. "I swear it wasn't my idea," he pleaded. "The guys wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Just let me know what you've got in mind," asked Kurt. "At least let me brace myself."

"Well," shrugged Dave, "my part's gonna be Dusty Springfield's _You Don't Have To Say You Love Me_. I figure it sums up my feelings well enough. As for the guys..." he winced.

Kurt couldn't help but smile at the idea of Dave performing Dusty Springfield. And it _was_ a sweet sentiment. But the guys, he suspected, were up to no good, and what went with that song anyway? "I'm intrigued," he smiled. "Amaze me."

"The Beatles," sighed Dave. "_She Loves You_. Except genderswapped to be _He_, obviously."

Kurt shook his head in amusement. _Oh, those boys._ "Don't worry," he chuckled. "I'll take it on the chin." He looked Dave in the eyes. "Thanks for warning me," he smiled earnestly. "You didn't have to do that."

"I did," nodded Dave. "I couldn't bring myself to let you walk into an ambush."

Kurt's smile broadened at Dave's thoughtfulness, and he hugged him. "That's really sweet of you," he breathed. It was all Dave needed to prepare himself for the performance; just a hug from Kurt and he felt he could bust out _Nessun Dorma_ without hesitation. They made their way to the choir room, and the boys performed beautifully, Dave's rendition skipping up a gear after the first verse into the tempo and 4:4 time signature of _She Loves You_ to smooth the transition.

It worked better than Kurt had expected, and Dave looked like he was enjoying it. The girls, too, were loving the ensemble, the boys throwing their support behind Dave as _this guy you should totally date, Kurt,_ while Dave held back with his Dusty-esque assertion that _I'm totally cool with us being friends_. As an example of counterpoint, it worked even better than the girls' performance.

For Kurt, it only served to highlight the fact that Dave had never put any pressure on him - except for that one night at Scandals. When he'd kissed back. And that was when he hadn't even been single. Dave had been the perfect gentleman throughout all of this. He felt a confusing warmth inside at the recollection of Dave's positively chivalrous behavior, and it led him to a decision.

He'd have to sing it out in _his_ counterpoint piece.

* * *

><p>Of all the places to find inspiration, he'd never have expected Dave's iTunes library to be it. He recalled two songs in particular that had cropped up among Dave's secret stash of soppy ballads, and considered them a perfect example of counterpoint - as well as excellently suited musically.<p>

As Dave had been gallant enough to forewarn him of the boys' performance, he thought it only fair to warn Dave what he had planned. "Wait, what?" asked Dave, confused.

"Remember?" Kurt replied, jogging his memory. "The songs that were playing the night I came by to cry on your shoulder, and ended up staying over?"

Dave fell briefly silent before he was struck by the recollection of... _oh god, really?_ "The love songs?" he asked incredulously. "Seriously?"

"I've thought of two perfect ones to put together," explained Kurt. "I think they fit my situation pretty well."

"How so?" asked Dave.

"You'll see," smiled Kurt, to a frustrated grumble from Dave.

"It better be worth the wait," huffed Dave impatiently.

"I'm Kurt Hummel," protested Kurt playfully. "How can it be anything but worth it?"

"Oh?" retorted Dave, grinning. "Santana told me your duet of _Candles_ with Blaine sucked ass."

It knocked Kurt right off his perch. "Oh... _shut up_," he huffed. It hadn't been his finest moment, and he honestly had no idea, in retrospect, what Blaine had been thinking.

"C'mon," pleaded Dave. "Not even a hint?"

Kurt cast Dave an evil grin. "They're gonna find out you listen to _Celine_," he divulged.

Dave was aghast. "You... no, you _wouldn't_," he gasped in horror.

Kurt cackled quietly to himself. "_Maybe_ I won't tell them I heard them at your place," he teased.

"Damn you, Hummel," hissed Dave, prompting giggles from Kurt.

Tomorrow afternoon was going to _suck_.

* * *

><p>Or not.<p>

Yes, Kurt had introduced his mashup as a combination of two tracks he'd heard playing on a _friend's_ iTunes library, and most of the club worked it out from that, which confused them as they were expecting some grunge or rock combo, maybe something indie or, god forbid, _emo_ that Dave might have picked up during that particularly bad week-and-a-bit of bullying and never gotten rid of, and how the hell would any of those fit into the category of 'love songs'?

So when Kurt started singing _Patience_, a track by a British band named Take That who only one or two of them had heard of - and then segued into _Falling Into You_ by Celine fucking _Dion_ of all people - then switching between the two throughout, which only seemed obvious in retrospect given their similar tempo and the fact that they were exactly five semitones apart from each other, everyone was struck dumb.

Dave Karofsky listened to _ballads_? He listened to _Celine_? While _Kurt was present?_ What the merry cartwheeling _fuck_ was that about?

It certainly matched the boys and girls' efforts - the opposing points of "_my heart is numb, has no feeling_" and "_it feels so good, falling into you_" were arguably the most powerful counterpoint of the three, and the arrangement and performance were enchanting. The choice of songs raised one huge question, however - and Mr Schue decided to raise it.

"So, Kurt," he asked, "which side are you on? Do you need time, or are you falling?"

Throughout the song, the lyrics had swayed Kurt one way, then another, and by the end he wasn't sure which was closer. "It's hard to tell," he sighed. "I was hoping the song would give me a little clarity."

"Maybe you should have listened to ours a little closer," grinned Tina. "It's in his _kiss_, Kurt!"

"I've already felt his kiss twice," retorted Kurt snippily.

"Wait, _twice?_" blurted Finn. "Dude, when was the second time?"

"It... we..." stammered Kurt. He hadn't told them about Scandals. "Uh..."

Rachel chose to save him the awkwardness. "He and Dave went to a gay bar a little while after Sectionals to celebrate how well things were going for Dave," she explained. "Apparently, there was... a moment."

"What the...?" spluttered Dave. "Don't call it _that!_" he snapped at Rachel. "You make it sound all... _special_ and stuff."

"You said it was!" objected Rachel. Dave buried his face in his hands. _Damn you, Rachel, you weren't __**ever**__ supposed to mention that!_

Kurt recalled the kiss, and how good it had felt until he remembered it was practically cheating. It had felt...

"It was nice," he mused idly to nobody in particular. "Actually... _really_ nice."

"So do it again!" demanded Tina with a huge grin.

"Guys, stop pushing!" urged Dave. "If he doesn't want me, he doesn't-"

"One date."

The room fell silent at Kurt's unexpected interruption.

"...what?" blurted Dave meekly. It was almost a whimper.

"One date. This Saturday. No promises."

The choir room was suddenly alive with noise - squealing from the girls, cheers of support for Dave from the boys. Dave himself was silent - his jaw seemingly straining to reach the ground.

"Dude, we totally won him over!" cried Puck exultantly.

Dave refused to indulge himself. "No. No, no, _stop_!" he barked. He turned to Kurt. "You don't have to do this," he pleaded. The air was filled with cries of "what?" and "dude!" as the club struggled to figure out what was going through Dave's mind.

Kurt, too, was at a loss to explain Dave's reluctance. "Are you saying you _don't_ want to go on a date with me?" he asked. He felt strangely hurt at the idea that Dave didn't want him, but put it down to the pain of rejection rather than... anything else.

Dave fought the lump in his throat. "I do," he replied hoarsely. "With every fiber of my being. But I can't ask you to just do this because everyone's pushing you to do it," he explained.

Kurt found himself flushed at the notion that Dave wanted so badly to date him. "I'm not... I'm not doing it because of them," he stammered emotionally.

"What?" croaked Dave.

"I'm doing this for me," explained Kurt. "I need to figure out, once and for all, what the hell I feel about you. I figure a date might help me, and I already know how selfish it is. I can't promise it'll end well," he warned, "but-"

"I'll take it!" blurted Dave, fighting back tears. A date with Kurt? He'd never even dared imagine he'd have that, much less anything else.

And, judging from the burst of cheering and the hugs Dave and Kurt were both swept up in by their fellow gleeks, neither had anyone else.

* * *

><p>The girls had thrown their weight fully behind the idea of Dave and Kurt as a couple, and on the day of the date they descended upon the Karofsky household determined to make sure Dave was ready for his date that evening.<p>

Nope. He wasn't remotely ready. He was freaking out, obsessing over how much he had to lose. If everything went brilliantly, Kurt _might_ want to date him again - and again, maybe, and again, and... but if even one thing went wrong, it could ruin everything.

Which was nonsense, of course. The girls could tell Kurt's feelings were stronger than even he or Dave were willing to believe, and they all figured Dave just had to put a little extra effort in. And that meant one thing, above all else.

"Shopping?" groaned Dave. "Do I have to?"

Mercedes looked him up and down. "Hell yeah," she drawled. "Boy, you _need_ a makeover."

"Don't worry, Davey," grinned Santana. "Auntie Tana's gonna look after you."

"I'm just here as an observer," admitted Rachel. "I'll freely admit my fashion sense isn't as strong as anyone else's here."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "I think you've done enough _observing_, Rach," he rebutted sardonically. Rachel chuckled inwardly; if there was a chance for some more _observing_, she'd happily lap it up.

"He's a total beefcake," noted Brittany blithely. "We should show off his arms, Kurt's totally gonna dig that."

"This I have to see," appealed Tina.

"Oh, I'm sure we will," chuckled Quinn. "Lets go shopping, Dave."

It wasn't fun - but shopping was never high up on Dave's fun-things-to-do list. He felt like an animated mannequin throughout most of it; the girls picked shirts and jeans a size smaller than he was used to, and he was dubious about their suitability.

Still, he had to admit - he looked... _good_. He hardly recognized the figure staring back at him in the mirror. The girls, too, were amazed by how good he looked when dressed in clothes that actually complemented - and _complimented_ - his figure. He made a mental note that, however things turned out, he'd let Kurt take him out shopping sometime; if the girls could dress him up this well, he wanted to find out what Kurt could do for his look.

Rachel, of course, was determined to get him to demonstrate how hot he looked topless - and, after she insisted he make up for revealing how they bonded over their body issues, she finally got her wish: Dave stood before them, bare-chested.

The girls found themselves suddenly envious of Kurt. Dave basked in the positive feedback: the remains of his body issues evaporated on the spot. He finally believed he looked really good.

"Remember," insisted Rachel, "if all else fails, show him _this_." The other girls giggled at the suggestion, but all agreed that if he needed one last push, seeing him topless might just be the nudge Kurt needed.

As they meandered around the mall, the girls discussing how Kurt would have to be _cray cray_ not to fall into Dave's arms, Dave noticed something in a shop window. It seemed perfect.

He swooped into the shop to pick it up. "Wait, what?" protested Mercedes. "Davey, why are you buyin' him cake?"

"It's not cake I'm after," he replied, as he pointed out the item in the window to the assistant. He explained to the girls that he'd spotted the ideal gift for Kurt - something that would hopefully mean a lot to him, and help put one of their lingering issues aside. "Every little helps," he shrugged, taking the lid off the box containing the item he'd bought.

"Oh my god, that's so cute!" squealed Rachel.

"Jesus, Dave, that's _ridiculously_ gay," scoffed Santana with a chuckle.

"That's totally Kurt," smiled Brittany.

"He's gonna love it, Davey," cooed Mercedes. "It's _adorable_."

"Lets hope it works, huh?" he shrugged with a smile.

* * *

><p>Dave had dressed <em>well<em>. Kurt could scarcely believe the same jock whose wardrobe he'd once described as a _boucherie du couture_ had shown up looking like...

_Wow. He wears that outfit like a __**boss**__._

Dave held up a piece of paper - a prop for the gag he had planned. "Hi," he smiled, following the script he'd rehearsed. "I'm here to pick up a, uh, _Karl Hamill_?" he queried, squinting at the piece of paper as though misreading a name.

Kurt briefly wore a look of surprise, before the penny dropped and he started chuckling before he could stop himself, shaking his head at the silliness. It was so _him_. "I ordered a ride for _cute homo_, for god's sake," he sighed, pretending to be peeved, before breaking into a smirk as Dave chortled in response at Kurt's retaliatory punchline.

Both laughing. It felt like a good start.

They both agreed not to say much on the journey there, and settled for listening to the radio. Inevitably, they ended up singing along - surprisingly, harmonizing almost effortlessly. Soon enough, they'd reached the restaurant and taken their seats. They made no effort to hide the fact that it was a date - Dave was as out as Kurt was, and by now he didn't care who knew. His friends and family were okay with it - supportive, even - so what did it matter who else found out?

Inevitably, Kurt found himself drawn to the topic of Dave's outfit. "How?" he blurted. "How the hell did... did _this_ happen?" he asked, gesturing to Dave's well-fitted jeans and snug t-shirt.

"I, uh..." started Dave, blushing. "I may have had help from the girls," he confessed.

Kurt was initially delighted that Dave had made such an effort, but then found himself feeling cocky that he'd guessed that Dave couldn't have done it alone. "I knew it!" he guffawed. "You had to have had a helping hand!"

"Yeah, well, we're not all god's gift to fashion like you, _Fancy_," snarked Dave, bringing up his nickname for Kurt at a point where it made more sense than ever.

"That settles it," declared Kurt. "If you're capable of looking _this_ good, _I will take you shopping someday soon_." Dave hadn't managed to ask Kurt for exactly that favor, and felt just a bit put out at being beaten to the punch, and stuck his tongue out at Kurt.

"Oh, put it _away_," smirked Kurt.

"Why should I?" argued Dave with a grin.

"That tongue was in Blaine's mouth," retorted Kurt. "Ew," he observed, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"So was yours!" shrugged Dave, earning him an "oh, shush" look from Kurt.

Dave paused for a moment, and then scrunched up his face. "...ewww, we've both got cooties," he observed in a childlike tone. The observation was so silly and sudden that Kurt burst out laughing. Dave couldn't help but laugh along. It was a nice moment: the two of them bonding over mockery of Kurt's ex. Felt right, somehow.

"Wow, you're seriously over him, aren't you?" observed Dave, slightly relieved at the realization.

Kurt shrugged, looking contemplative. "Him, yes," he nodded. "But I have to admit, it was nice being part of a couple. I miss that," he sighed.

Dave nodded. "Yeah, I kinda get that," he figured. "You two were together for months."

Kurt snapped out of his reverie. "Well, I'm never going back," he concluded brightly. "Pretty sure he got the message, too, what with the right hook," he smirked, recalling the impact his fist made with Blaine's jaw at Dalton.

Dave grinned at the recollection. "Yeah, I can't believe you drove to Dalton and punched out your ex. You're a badass!" he chuckled.

"And that's not even including the way I tackled him to the hard floor of the corridor that time," continued Kurt.

Dave's jaw dropped. He'd almost forgotten. "Shit," he gasped. "Z was right. Remind me _never_ to get on your bad side!" he grinned.

"Oh, that's not hard," shrugged Kurt playfully. "Just be careful not to _deliberately and maliciously out anyone_ and we should be cool."

Dave chuckled at the command. "Well, if I ever do, I just have to remember the three-step plan," he replied. "Kiss you in the locker room, then threaten to kill you, then pin you up against the lockers and take something off... you." His playful tone faltered along with his mood, as the recollection of his behavior toward Kurt in the past sank in. "Cos, y'know... that worked," he continued mirthlessly, his guilt creeping over him.

Kurt saw his expression fade, and felt bad for him. He'd thought those days were behind them; certainly, as far as Kurt was concerned, he _had_ put it all behind him. He shook off the cloud and tried to lighten things a little. "Like that'll even make a dent these days," he shrugged with a smile. "I know your big secret now."

"Please, who doesn't know nowadays?" replied Dave, figuring Kurt meant his sexuality.

"No, the _other_ one," observed Kurt.

Dave was baffled. "What, that I'm cra...?" he started, silencing himself just a moment too late. _No! No, DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT._ "Uh, th-that I like you so much?" he continued, blushing fiercely.

Kurt was blindsided by Dave's inadvertent admission that his feelings for him were so strong. _He was gonna say "crazy about you". Oh Dave..._ He found himself blushing in response. He refocused and tried to get to his point. "No, that you're a big _softie_ who cried watching Brokeback Mountain," he grinned.

Dave relaxed as Kurt steered away from the topic of his feelings for him. "The _shame_," he faux-winced, raising his hand to his chest. "I may never be able to show my face in public again."

Kurt chuckled. "So. You don't scare me, mister," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Dave regarded Kurt with admiration. "Told you you were brave, didn't I?" he sighed happily.

Kurt shrugged. "I'll take your word for it," he replied.

Dave saw his chance to get something out of the way. "Still, about all that... I still owe you," he insisted, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling something out. "I've been wanting to give you this back for a while, and it never seemed the right time. This seems about as good a time as any," he explained, handing over the item he'd pulled from his pocket.

The cake topper he'd once taken from Kurt.

Kurt was amazed. "You kept it," he breathed.

"It was never mine," shrugged Dave. "I was only ever its custodian, never its owner. This was always yours, Kurt."

Kurt regarded the cake topper, and considered the events and history it represented. He didn't _want_ that history, it meant nothing any more. Things had changed far too much. He paused a moment, and decided to try giving it a new resonance, a better meaning. "No, Dave," he declined gently, smiling slightly as he gazed into Dave's eyes. "It's yours now. Consider it a symbol of how far we've come."

Dave fought to form words as his throat tightened. "I'll treasure it," he gulped, his voice thick. "Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt found himself moved by Dave's tenderness, and took a deep breath to steady his emotions. "You're welcome, Dave," he nodded.

The moment was perfect to bring up the gift he'd bought Kurt. "Actually, it occurred to me while I had this that you'd probably never get to use it again," he elaborated, regaining his composure and reaching into the small bag he'd brought into the restaurant with him, "so, uh, earlier today, I found a better one for you." He handed over a box. "One you _could_ use someday," he explained.

Kurt opened the box, and the gift inside took his breath away.

Another cake topper. Two _grooms_.

"Oh god," he gasped. "Oh, Dave... it's..." he gulped. "...It's beautiful." He felt his eyes reddening, and struggled to stop the tears coming.

"The figure on the left kinda looks like you," smile Dave. "Kinda."

Kurt smiled at the comparison. "Wow, he really does," he grinned.

"I doubt they'd have had any with big-hulking-jock types on 'em," theorized Dave. "Besides," he shrugged with a grin, "presumptuous, much?"

Kurt giggled at the implication. He looked up from the grooms. "There you are being all _cute_ again," he smiled. "You're pulling out _all_ the stops tonight - cute, stylish, romantic..."

Dave could see Kurt was still struggling to move beyond his preconceived notion of Dave. "You're still struggling to get your head around the idea of an _us_, aren't you?" he observed, trying not to look disappointed.

Kurt felt bad for Dave. "I don't know how to really imagine it," he admitted.

Dave tried to look on the bright side. "Maybe it'll just take time," he suggested.

"Maybe," nodded Kurt. His attention returned to the cake topper. _He could actually be good for me. I wish I didn't still think of him as a brother._

Over the course of the meal, during which Kurt relished in finally hearing Dave's side of the incident where he was inadvertently and _excruciatingly_ trapped in his room while Rachel and Finn were audibly intimate with each other at the Berrys', the conversation strayed onto the topic of Dave's home life and his relationship with his father.

"...and I know he means to look out for me," he sighs, "but... god, it feels like he's telling me off half the time."

Kurt frowned. He'd hoped his home life would turn out better somehow; his parents genuinely seemed to care that he was back home. _Perhaps they just care about him __**too**__ much now?_ "He's not careless enough to lose you again," he reassured Dave. "I'm sure it all comes from a place of caring."

"Well, it'd be nice if it didn't take a diversion through a place of _stupid_ before it reached me," huffed Dave.

A snort of laughter escaped Kurt at Dave's turn of phrase. Then a thought occurred to him; had the topic of the date been raised? Had Paul raised the subject of... _oh my._ "I hope he's not accused you of sleeping around," he smirked. "Cos, y'know, that'd just suck twice as much for you."

Dave grimaced at Kurt. "Oh _thanks_, bring my virginity into it," he grunted - albeit with a dash of humor.

Kurt smiled at Dave's levity on the topic. "Oh, like it's even a bad thing," he shrugged amiably. "I think it's sweet you're waiting for the right guy."

Dave let out a weary sigh. "Can't help feeling the right guy will never come along," he admitted. "Besides..." He paused briefly, and quietly sung out the thought preoccupying him.

"_If he happens to be free, I bet he wouldn't fancy me..._"

Kurt couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up inside him at Dave's unexpected vocal. His unexpected _Abba_ vocal. "You did _not_ just quote an Abba lyric in conversation!" he chortled.

Dave frowned back at him, faking indignation. "Hey, that was _singing_," he challenged.

Kurt continued giggling. "You're not helping your case here! I don't think even _I'm_ that gay!" he chuckled.

Dave shrugged. "Well, I've got a lot of ground to catch up on," he grinned shyly. "Anyway, my point stands," he continued. "The right guy probably isn't into me."

"If he isn't, he's not the right guy," contended Kurt.

Dave's face fell a little. "Or he's already noticed me for all the wrong reasons," he lamented.

Kurt regarded Dave thoughtfully, once again seeing his pain. "You've never really forgiven yourself for everything, have you?" he noticed.

Dave sighed dolefully. "Not fully," he frowned. "I mean, how could I?"

Kurt shook his head at Dave's refusal to forgive himself. He didn't deserve this - after the past six months, he'd been through enough. No - too much. "On balance, you've suffered more than me. You need to let it all go," he urged. "Besides, you've more than made up for what you did."

Dave gazed into Kurt's eyes sadly. "I guess I'll have to take your word for it," he replied, unconvinced.

Dave's reluctance to pursue Kurt suddenly made perfect sense, given his view of himself. "No wonder you were so reticent to take me out on a date," he gasped. "You think you don't deserve me."

"I almost managed to forget," sighed Dave. "Remember Scandals? Just for a moment, I felt like I could be enough." He gazed into Kurt's eyes. "Like you and I could be great together."

To Dave, it was more a wish than anything else. A daydream. Nothing real.

Kurt was moved by Dave's recollection of the moment, nonetheless. _And the kiss had been nice. All, what, ten seconds of it or something?_ "Maybe we could," he pondered wistfully. "I just wish I could figure out what the hell I feel."

Dave suddenly found his silly little daydream starting to take form. "You... you think I _am_ worthy of you?" he gasped, still almost refusing to believe it.

Almost.

"Absolutely," nodded Kurt approvingly. He reached out and took Dave's hand in his, never breaking eye contact. "And if you don't end up with me, you're gonna make some lucky guy so happy someday." It actually hurt to say it. It felt like he was letting Dave slip through his fingers, and it hurt. Like saying goodbye to a relative. Like letting go of a loved one.

Like losing someone you love.

Kurt's affirmation that Dave was easily good enough for him was like music to Dave. "That's good enough for me," he beamed, squeezing Kurt's hand in his own. "If you believe it, I believe it."

To Kurt, the sheer joy Dave felt seemed to radiate from him like light from a star. It was tantalizing, seeing Dave so happy. Looking upon him without seeing some pallor of guilt or self-doubt. Just like he'd looked at Sectionals. Like he'd looked that night at Scandals.

Dave looked beautiful to him.

Somehow, that made total sense... and yet, at the same time, no sense at all.

* * *

><p>For anyone else, the date would have been considered a roaring success. They got along brilliantly, they had fun, they enjoyed each others' company and a second date would have been a certainty. But this wasn't anyone else. This was Dave and Kurt.<p>

And now, as they stood outside Kurt's front door, Kurt's mind was in a more disheveled state than it had been when Dave had picked him up that evening.

"Oh god, I feel more confused than ever," he lamented. "I thought tonight would _help_."

Dave felt more than a little bit disheartened. Kurt had almost seemed willing to date him for a moment, back at the restaurant. "You're still stuck on the 'brother Dave' thing, aren't you?" he noted, all the while mulling over the advice of the girls - since the shopping expedition, he was seriously considering refering to them henceforth as his _troupe_.

"I can't even tell anymore," shrugged Kurt, looking utterly perplexed. "I try to think it through and it's just this _fog_," he whined in frustration, both for himself and for Dave.

Dave decided to play his ace. "Well... bear with me," he warned. "I've got an idea about how to clear your mind enough for your heart to shine through." He whipped off his jacket so fast, Kurt barely had time to register the action. "And you can blame Rachel for this idea," he grinned.

"What the... Dave...!" spluttered Kurt, half-guessing what he was up to. Surely he wouldn't...? _It's freezing out here! He... he'd... no!_

"Besides, you said you'd like to see eventually," he teased, as he struck the same pose that had sent Rachel's jaw dangling... and yanked off his t-shirt.

Kurt was struck dumb.

"Holy shit, Dave! It's Februwurruh, wurruh... wuh, wuh..."

Eventually.

* * *

><p><em>The outfit worked. It really, <em>_**really**__ worked. If Kurt didn't love this outfit, he... no. That wasn't even a thing. He couldn't __**not**__ love it._

_Dave had never looked so good. They'd succeeded in getting him out of his usual baggy shapeless clothes, and it had transformed him. The only one among them not transfixed by the sight before them was Rachel, and that was only because she'd already seen so much more. "Holy crap, Dave," gasped Santana. "Where the hell have you been hiding all this?"_

_"He's been working out a lot," explained Rachel. "Him and Finn."_

_"And Azimio, too, lately," added Dave. "So, uh. Yeah, I guess I got a little less chubby."_

_"A little less?" spluttered Mercedes in disbelief. "Boy, you are __**not**__ chubby. Not one bit."_

_Dave blushed under Mercedes' compliments. "C'mon," he shrugged shyly. "I'm not... I'm..."_

_Rachel shook her head in dismay. "Dave, I thought you were over this?" she sighed sadly. "C'mon, you must know you're hot by now."_

_"That was just you," explained Dave, to the confusion of the rest of the girls._

_"What was just her?" asked Tina. Rachel looked at Dave tensely._

_"Oh crap," whispered Dave._

_"What's this about, Dave?" asked Quinn. "Rachel?" she continued, turning to Rachel, determined to get an answer._

_Dave sighed in frustration. "They're not gonna leave this alone," he shrugged to Rachel. "Can we just tell them, get this over with? There'll be some mild embarrassment, a little mockery and then it'll be __**done**__."_

_Rachel cringed at the idea of revealing their little body-issues bonding session. However, she knew full well Dave was right; there was no way they were going to drop this. "Fine, but you owe me," she grunted. Dave explained how Rachel had zeroed in on his belief that he was fat and helped him work through it by revealing her own... issues. When he got to the point where Rachel got all __**handsy**__, the rest of the girls were giggling while Rachel's blush crept ever closer to scarlet._

_"We got us some serious beefcake here," observed Santana. "Me gusta," she purred mischievously._

_"You don't even __**like**__ guys!" rebuked Dave._

_"Hey, I can appreciate a little muscle just as much as anyone else," shrugged Santana._

_"Wait, he's probably even hotter now than he was back then!" exclaimed Rachel as the thought occurred to her. "He's been working out that whole time. That's __**months**__." Murmurs of interest rippled through the assembled gathering._

_"I totally wanna see that," stated Brittany._

_Rachel suddenly had an idea. "You know I said you owe me?" she reminded Dave, fixing him with a stare._

_Dave's face fell as he figured out what Rachel was about to ask for. "Oh no," he gulped. "Oh, __**fuck**__ no. No, just... Jesus, Rach, I beg you, don't ask me to-"_

_"T-shirt off. __**Now.**__" The order filled Dave with horror._

_"Please, Rachel, __**anything**__ else, I beg you, just... not this. Please."_

_"Trust me, Dave," she smiled. "They'll swoon over you."_

_Dave could see there was no getting out of it. He braced himself, struck a pose, scrunched his eyes shut... then whipped off the t-shirt and waited for the mockery._

_It never came._

_Nor did anything else. He opened his eyes, and found himself stunned by the sight of the girls gazing at him, agog. Even Santana was taken aback - although she was the first to speak._

_"Did it get freakin' __**hot**__ in here?" she grinned._

_"Holy crap, Rachel," gasped Tina. "You weren't kidding."_

_"Who else is fighting the urge to touch him?" asked Rachel, her teeth clenched._

_"Me," drawled Mercedes, Quinn, Brittany and Tina._

_Dave could barely believe it. They... they __**liked**__ the look of him. They __**really**__ liked it. He found himself basking in the admiration, and decided they deserved a little something as a thank you. He spread his arms out in invitation. "Ladies," he smiled. "Don't fight it."_

_They didn't need telling twice._

* * *

><p>Kurt's vocabulary had momentarily been reduced to one word.<p>

"...Whoa."

Kurt found himself unable to _not_ look at Dave. The muscles. The pecs, the abs, the arms, the... _This is not fraternal. __**Fuck**__ fraternal. This... this is..._

Dave tried not to shiver as the cold started to take hold. The look Kurt was giving him helped with that: if he'd thought Rachel found him sexy, there just weren't _words_ for the way Kurt seemed to be thinking about him. He swore Kurt had started drooling.

_Fuck. He's drooling? Okay, maybe that's just the cold. But... holy shit._

Kurt reached out to Dave without even thinking, and yanked his hands back when he realized they were floating toward him almost without his permission. He held them close to his chest, utterly at a loss where to put them. He took a tentative step closer, still captivated by Dave's figure.

He wanted contact. He wanted to touch. To hold. To...

"If I'm blaming this on Rachel," he said finally, gesturing to Dave's toplessness... and paused briefly, as though deciding something.

_Screw it._

"Then I'm blaming _this_ on Tina," he added, before mashing his lips against Dave's and wrapping his arms tightly around him. Dave was briefly too stunned to respond, and then everything else in the world fell away because Kurt was kissing him as if kissing Dave was the most fashionable thing in the world. Like kissing him was food and he was absolutely starved.

And Dave was more than happy to stand there in his arms, the two of them wrapped around each other, and feed him until he was sated.

Kurt had finally realized he wanted Dave. Loved him. Was utterly smitten with him, and how the hell did he not see this sooner? In retrospect, it was obvious. Kurt would kick himself later that evening for all the clues he'd missed. The way he became such a staunch defender of Dave. The way they just _clicked_ together. The misery he felt at upsetting Dave, or being kept apart from him. He'd kick himself. Later.

Right now, he was busy.

Eventually they pulled apart, and neither of them could say how long it had been. Neither of them cared. "Dad was right," gasped Kurt. "I have _such_ a weakness for jocks," he giggled, giddy from the thrill of the kiss, the warmth of Dave's embrace, the look of blissed-out adoration on Dave's face.

"More beefcake, sir?" beamed Dave, buzzing with excitement.

"_Hell, yeah!_" growled Kurt eagerly.

"That's good," nodded Dave with a chuckle, "cos we're all out of side salad!" Kurt took a moment to get the reference to Blaine, and burst out laughing as the penny dropped.

"Screw the salad, I want _beef!_" grunted Kurt salaciously, the grin refusing to fall from his face. They became wrapped in each other again, before Kurt noticed Dave shivering.

"Oh my god, you're freezing!" he gasped in alarm.

"Is it cold?" stuttered Dave, his jaw shuddering in the chilly February air. "I hadn't noticed."

"Lets get you inside," urged Kurt, opening the front door and ushering him in, picking up the jacket and t-shirt he'd dropped beside him. Once indoors, they fell onto the sofa and started making out in earnest. It had been too long; they had so long to make up for. Weeks? Months? Whatever. They were together now, and that was all that-

_"Kurt!_"

_Burt. Whoops, better quit making out with... Oh shit, I'm fucking __**topless.**_ Dave practically leapt away from Kurt. "It's not how it looks, I swear to god!" he pleaded to Burt.

Kurt reached over and flung Dave's t-shirt at him, which he pulled on almost in a single movement. "Dave, I'd like a word in the dining room," instructed Burt, beckoning Dave to join him. It wasn't a request.

Dave's heart sank. The last thing he wanted was to ruin things within a few minutes of finally winning Kurt over. He stood up and made his way into the kitchen. "I swear to god, Burt, it's not what you think," he begged.

"And what am I thinking, exactly?" asked Burt in a terrifyingly _calm_ tone of voice.

"That I was going too far with your son after just one date," guessed Dave.

Burt raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty smart, kid," he nodded. "So d'you mind telling me exactly what it was?"

"Honestly?" sighed Dave. "My one last shot at winning Kurt over. The date went really well - well, I guess you figured that out by now," he smiled bashfully, "but he still couldn't figure out how he felt. He was still a little hung up on his preconception of me as a brother figure."

"And seeing you... topless," theorized Burt, putting the pieces together, "...clinched it?"

"Blame the girls," smiled Dave. "They were the ones who convinced me to give it a shot. Hell, _they_ were pretty much won over when they..." He clammed up as Burt's eyebrow popped up again.

"When they...?" he beckoned.

Dave blushed, despite himself. "They kinda wheedled me into taking my top off for them," he muttered.

Burt had to stifle his laughter, but couldn't stop himself from smiling in obvious amusement. "Those girls have you wrapped around their fingers, don't they?" he teased.

"They helped me dress like this," explained Dave, pointing to the clothes he was wearing. "It got Kurt's attention. I kinda owe them."

Burt's demeanor changed as Dave mentioned _getting Kurt's attention_. "You got his attention, I'll say that," he observed dryly. "You understand, I hope, that this means I'll be watching you boys a lot more closely, right?"

Dave understood Burt's point at once, and immediately sought to reassure him. "Don't worry, Burt," he smiled. "We're in no hurry to rush things. We've got..." He faltered as it suddenly dawned on him exactly what they had.

College. In different places. Kurt was off to New York come September.

"...months," drawled Dave in distress, the reality of the time they had left together dawning on him.

"Dave?" asked Burt, seeing the pain on his face.

"Oh god, we've only got _months_ together," croaked Dave. "I won't even get the chance to... surrender myself to him," he elaborated, stumbling as he chose a suitable term to describe his first time with Kurt.

A time he feared would now never come to pass.

"Do what now?" asked Burt, a little sharply as the notion occurred to him.

Dave's eyes locked on to Burt's. "He was gonna be my first, Burt," he explained tremulously, his eyes stinging. "Now we'll never get the chance."

Burt saw the sincerity in Dave's eyes, and understood exactly what Dave was saying. "You were saving yourself for him?" he asked, openly impressed at Dave's self control.

"I never wanted anyone else, Burt," he insisted, shaking his head. "It was always Kurt. It was only ever him."

Burt found himself reconsidering Dave's point: it wasn't just that he'd waited until Kurt was available. It was that he wanted his first time to be special. He wanted it to matter.

And he wanted it to be with Kurt because Kurt mattered to him.

That was more than enough for Burt. "Tell you what," he decided. "You two prove you can wait a month, and I'll let you boys decide for yourselves how far you wanna go."

The proposal was such a shock to Dave he couldn't even form words. His mouth fell open and he stood in place, struck dumb.

"I'm only putting one condition on this," added Burt.

Dave was spurred into a response. "Anything, Burt!" he gasped, the shock giving way to delight at the notion that he and Kurt may one day have the chance to be... _intimate_.

"I don't want you two going that far within earshot," grimaced Burt, the very notion of hearing his boy doing... _sex things_ giving him the heebie-jeebies. "You wanna go that far _here_? You make sure there's nobody else around."

Dave found himself laughing out of sheer relief. The idea of adults overhearing him having sex? Hell, even _he_ didn't want that. "Don't worry, we will," he chuckled. "Wouldn't wanna inflict that on _anyone_. Remind me to fill you in on the time I was trapped in my bedroom at the Berrys' while Finn and Rachel... _ugh,_" he winced with a giggle, still awash with relief at the way the situation was unfolding.

Burt laughed along with Dave at the image. "Oh god, really?" he chortled. "Maybe I should have a word with Finn."

"Yes, please do!" grinned Dave. "You have my word, I'll be _far_ better behaved."

Burt smiled at the young man before him. "Once the month's passed, of course," he winked.

Dave nodded. "Obviously," he grinned.

"You should get back out there to Kurt," smiled Burt. "He'll probably be working himself into a bit of a state over me hauling you over the coals."

"I'm almost tempted to string him along over that, like you've forbidden me from seeing him or something," grinned Dave, "but he probably heard us laughing."

"If you two hadn't been pining for each other for so long, I'd consider playing along," smirked Burt. "But you've wasted enough time. Go be with him," he ordered. "Be happy for once."

Dave felt suffused with gratitude, and wrapped Burt up in a hug. "Thanks, Burt," he beamed. "You're the best dad in Ohio. Seriously."

Burt patted his son's... new... _boyfriend_ (_oh man, that's gonna take some getting used to_) on the back and they broke the hug. "Go," he insisted, pointing toward the lounge. "Kurt needs you."

Dave didn't need telling twice. He practically bounded back to Kurt, flopped down next to him on the sofa and kissed him as he pulled him into a passionate embrace. "Your dad is totally fuckin' _awesome_," he enthused gleefully.

"You're in one piece," observed Kurt mirthfully. "Maybe he's not so bad."

"Oh, you might find out just _how_ good he is in about a month," giggled Dave.

"Why, what's happening in a month?" asked Kurt.

"Well," grinned Dave, running a hand along the inside of Kurt's thigh, "I guess that depends on you."

Kurt wriggled slightly under the feel of Dave's hand. It felt nice. A little... _too_ nice. He looked at Dave, and Dave nodded back. Then the penny dropped. "Wait... dad told you he'd let us...?" he stammered.

Dave nodded again, his grin broadening.

"In a month's time?" Dave nodded again, more excitedly.

Kurt was jubilant at the news and leapt up from the sofa. "I have to go thank him!" he squealed. Dave chuckled and waved him toward the kitchen where Burt had gone to fetch himself a beer, and just about caught the phrase "best dad in the world" among Kurt's excited squealing.

_Yeah, that sounds about right,_ thought Dave elatedly.

* * *

><p>Everyone was staring.<p>

They were walking up the halls of McKinley High, and everyone was staring, many of them slack-jawed in amazement, at the sight of Dave Karofsky and Kurt Hummel walking through the corridors hand in hand.

And the two boys were lapping it up. It had taken them a long while to get there, and now they were, they were enjoying every single moment they had together. The likelihood that they might be pulled apart come September was still lingering at the back of Dave's mind, but he was doing his best to ignore it.

Moments like this really helped.

Jacob Ben Israel zoomed in on them like a gossip-seeking missile. He was already narrating to the camera. "It looks like the date on Saturday between outed jock, Dave Karofsky, and resident Alpha Gay, Kurt Hummel, went exceptionally well - McKinley's new power couple is also the hot new gay couple! Dave," he asked, pointing the camera toward the two, "do you have any comment on the events of Saturday evening?" Clearly he wanted scandal.

All he was getting was an unmistakable statement of intent. "Only this," shrugged Dave. He still had Kurt's hand in his own, and raised it into the air in triumph. "Kurtofsky is _on_, bitches!" he whooped, to cheering and hollers from the gleeks, the majority of Titans, and particularly Azimio, who punched the air.

"Way to go, DK!" he yelled.

Ben Israel wasn't giving up that easily. "Anything to add, Kurt?" he asked, ravenous for the slightest bit of scandal.

Kurt merely chimed in with his own victory cry. "I got me a jock!" he hollered, garnering a piercing whistle from Santana and yet more cheering from their friends.

"What took you so long?" teased Rachel, grinning like a halfwit.

"What can I say?" shrugged Kurt. "I guess I'm worth waiting for," he beamed.

Dave smiled at him like he was the only person in the whole school. "You _know_ you are," he winked. The two of them relished in the private joke.

The month couldn't pass quick enough for them.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I've been waiting to get this chapter out there for months. =)_

_Now, I could leave it there, but I want to wrap up a few things.  
>Kurt and Dave's month isn't up yet. <strong>Rawr.<strong>  
>Regionals! Also, Jeff, Nick and Trent need their chance to say "I told you so". And Nick owes Trent $50. :o)<br>Also, NYADA/Nationals/farewells, and an epilogue._

_So there's a few bits to do yet. Maybe two or three chapters._

_Reviews == love. As always. Story alert notifications are nice, but actual commentary's soooooo much nicer. ;)_

_-Liam_


	16. Wrap Yourself Around Me

_**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: Wrap Yourself Around Me  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks for checking my first attempt at slash! Glad you liked it ;) )  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M (for lewd language, adult themes, sex scenes)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives, smut, gay sex  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 12,859 (oops)  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: Kurt and Dave are together, and Kurt finds himself rethinking everything he ever knew about the jock with the big heart now that they're a couple - but how long will they be within arms' reach?_

_A/N: Another massive chapter. Still, at least Kurt and Dave get something out of it. Finally. :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: Wrap Yourself Around Me<strong>

The run up to Regionals had been the best yet. Everyone was still buzzing about Kurt and Dave _finally_ getting together: Kurt and Dave themselves were utterly blissed out for obvious reasons, everyone else in the entire group feeling a sense of accomplishment as they'd all taken an active role in pairing them off, and it had amped up their creativity like nothing else.

By sheer fluke, the girls had decided to go retro for an evening and watch something from the 80s, ultimately going for _Working Girl_ - and Tina immediately flagged up the rousing _Let The River Run_ by Carly Simon as potential Regionals setlist material. After an intense debate among the girls, they'd decided it was far too good to throw away on Regionals, and vowed to knock it out of the park at Nationals; with the form New Directions were on, Regionals was in the bag.

They'd already decided on an Adele mashup, bringing together _Rumor Has It_ and _Set Fire To The Rain_. The girls would have a field day with it, but that left the boys to catch up. Another Kurt/Dave duet was mooted, but when Artie reminded everyone about the prospect of a dance-off between him and Mike the decision was made to throw their weight behind it, the whole club eager to see what they could come up with.

"We need to match it with something upbeat," affirmed Mike. "Any ideas, Dave?"

The mention of his name jolted Dave out of his own private musings. "Sorry, what?" he asked, as though distracted, and mildly annoyed by something. His leg was twitching.

And his hands were firmly ensconced in his lap. Kurt hadn't noticed that. His hands, too, were planted in his lap, and he was doing his level best to think of anything _unsexy_.

Both of them were preoccupied. Specifically, with a date about three weeks from then: it had only been a week since Burt's deal with Dave, and the two boys were already planning ahead. And it was frustrating the hell out of both of them.

"Something on your mind, Dave?" asked Mike.

"It's not his _mind_ that's the problem," grinned Finn.

"Bite me, Hudson," growled Dave, willing his excruciatingly unwelcome erection to fade. He was having as much luck with that as Kurt - which was pretty much _none_.

"Man, you two must be at it like rabbits," noted Puck dryly.

"Fat chance of that," grunted Kurt through gritted teeth. "Hamhock here," he spat as he prodded Dave irritatedly in the arm, "cut a deal with my dad to wait a fucking _month_ before going all the way with me."

"That wasn't a fucking _deal!_" huffed Dave. "It was either wait a month and have his permission, or go behind his back and eventually get caught." He paused. "And _killed,_" he added pointedly.

"Burt _is_ a pretty scary guy when you get on his bad side," nodded Finn.

Dave suddenly became aware of something, and looked down. "Huh," he intoned idly. "Guess I found my off-switch."

"What's that?" asked Mike. "Burt? Your big turn-off is some big brawny guy? Dave, I don't think you're doing gay properly," he grinned.

Dave shot Mike a skunk-eye. "No, my big turn-off is my boyfriend's big scary _dad_."

"And your boyfriend's gonna grow up to _be_ him," chuckled Puck. "Good luck with that, dude."

Dave looked at Puck like his IQ had suddenly halved. "Dude, can you even _see_ Kurt?" he challenged. "No way is he gonna grow up looking like Burt. He'll probably look more like..." He faltered. He didn't want to bring Kurt's mother into the conversation.

"...My mom," sighed Kurt wistfully, finishing Dave's point for him.

Dave felt guilty for bringing up Kurt's mother at all; he knew how much she'd meant to him, and he knew mentioning her wouldn't help matters at all.

Except in one unexpected way. "Hm," observed Kurt. "I think you just found _my_ off-switch," he sighed, possibly out of relief at the passing of the pent-up sexual frustration than anything else.

The threat of hormonal derailment now passed, the two boys eagerly engaged in the planning of set-pieces for Regionals. Any excuse to forget about their enforced celibacy - even though up to a week ago their chances of having sex at all, much less with each other, were both at a flat zero - was more than welcome.

Right now, they needed every distraction they could find.

* * *

><p>The scene backstage was electric. The dance-off to Bonnie Tyler's <em>Holding Out For A Hero<em> brought the house down, not just for the dancing but for the shared leads from Rachel, Mercedes, Kurt and Santana as the rest of the group oohed and aahed in perfect harmony.

_I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light_

"We've got this one in the bag, right?" enthused Rachel.

"I dunno, Rach," shrugged Finn. "The Warblers were freakin' good, even without Blaine."

"Yeah, but we were better!" insisted Kurt. "The dance-off Dave came up with kicked ass!"

"That's always been their weakness," nodded Artie. "Those guys sure know how to sing, but damn, they can be flat-footed."

"All the better for us," grinned Dave. "Man, the more I do this, the more I _want_ to. This shit's addictive," he giggled.

"Wow," drawled Santana teasingly. "Davey here's swapping the floodlit pitch for the spotlight on stage! The Titans are gonna miss him," she grinned.

"Don't write off my football career just yet," winked Dave. "If it gets me into college, I'm all over that."

"Enjoying it while it lasts?" smiled Kurt.

Dave nodded. "The US isn't ready for gay footballers yet, I know that," he shrugged with a sigh. "Still, in a few years' time, who knows?"

"Well said, sweetheart," grinned Kurt, hugging Dave from behind.

_I could swear that there's someone somewhere watching me_

"Well played, boys!" cheered Burt as he came backstage with Paul.

"You kids were fantastic out there!" grinned Paul. "Hell, you weren't this good at Sectionals!" Dave blushed at the blatant compliment.

"Hey! You sayin' we sucked at Sectionals?" sassed Mercedes cheekily.

"No, I'm saying you were _amazing_ at Sectionals, and now you're even _better_," retaliated Paul. "I don't know how you kids do it."

"Hard work and dedication," grinned Will, positively glowing with pride at the assembled group. "Talent gets them a fair chunk of the way, but with Dave whipping them into shape they were in great condition come Sectionals. He came up with the idea of the dance-off between Artie and Mike, and trained them up so they'd be fit for the routine."

Paul regarded his son with a mixture of pride and surprise. He had no idea Dave had such a flair for things like this. "I'm impressed, son!" he beamed.

"Oh, it wasn't all me," shrugged Dave bashfully.

"It was a fair chunk!" insisted Kurt.

"You would say that," snarked Santana. "You're screwing him!" Burt's eyes almost bounced off the ceiling.

"Not true!" yelped Dave and Kurt in unison.

"Tana, you are _not_ gonna ruin things for my boys," glared Mercedes. She turned to the alarmed parents. "Don't worry, Mr Hummel, Mr Karofsky," she assured them. "Kurt's been bendin' my ear about how much it sucks havin' to wait. He wouldn't be doin' that if he wasn't," she chuckled. The two dads seemed placated by Mercedes' reassurance, although Kurt glared at her for revealing his libidinous venting to Burt.

"Dave has been a little gruff lately," smirked Paul.

"Kurt was never like this with Blaine," observed Burt wryly.

"Yeah, but Dave's totally hot," noted Brittany. "Blaine was kinda cute, but no way was he sexy like Dave." Dave's cheeks burst into a vivid shade of pink at the reference to his now-broadly-acknowledged sex appeal.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be able to resist him," sighed Rachel wistfully, to raised eyebrows from Dave. "Good job I've got Finn," she added swiftly, moving quick to reassure her beau that he was plenty. Finn still lifted an eyebrow and regarded her with mild suspicion.

"Yeah, I need to have a word with you two about that," interjected Burt. Dave grinned; he knew exactly what conversation was coming.

_Oh, to be a fly on the wall,_ he thought jovially.

_Rumor has it he's the one I'm leaving you for_

"Remember when we told you how crazy you were about Dave?"

"Oh, _shut up_." Kurt was glaring at Trent, Jeff and Nick, trying to ignore the biggest I-told-you-so he'd ever faced.

"Couldn't you at least have waited until, like... after _tonight?_" grumbled Nick.

"Oh yeah," grinned Trent. "You owe me fifty dollars!"

"Wait, what's this?" asked Kurt in confusion. "You two were _placing bets_ on us?!"

"Only about how soon it'd take you two to get together," grinned Jeff.

"If you weren't together by now, we'd have just grabbed you and led you both somewhere private and talked you into it anyway," smirked Trent.

"As it is," sighed Nick, "Trent bet me $50 you'd be together by Regionals. I figured it'd be too soon."

"Oh, ye of little faith," grinned Dave.

"Ugh," grunted Nick. "Don't remind me."

"How's Blaine?" asked Dave. Kurt turned to him as though he'd lost his mind. Asking about... _him?_

"He's... licking his wounds," shrugged Jeff. "I think it's starting to dawn on him how much of a prick he was over everything."

"Most of us aren't even speaking to him other than to be civil," added Trent.

"Wow, that's harsh," considered Dave.

Again, Kurt regarded Dave almost slack-jawed in amazement. "Dave, he pretty much ruined your life!" he gasped.

"Yeah, really feels _ruined_ lately," guffawed Dave sardonically. "Guys," he continued, facing Jeff, Trent and Nick, "don't cut him off entirely, okay? He's gonna need friends when he realizes how much he's screwed things up." Kurt found himself in awe at Dave's forgiveness.

The Dalton triumvirate were equally amazed. "That's... wow," gasped Trent. "I had no idea you were so considerate, Dave," he smiled.

"I've been there, remember?" shrugged Dave. "I used to be an asshole. I know how much it sucks to realize you've turned everyone against you. Don't abandon Blaine entirely, okay? Maybe make him sweat it out a little," he smirked, "but don't cut him off altogether."

Nick nodded. "Seems fair. I think holding him at arms' length's working well," he observed.

"Maybe keep it up for a while, then, like Dave suggests," suggested Kurt. "Say... a month?" he smirked, turning toward Dave, a knowing look in his eye.

"I hear a month works pretty well," grinned Dave.

Trent nodded. "Sounds fair," he agreed. "We can taunt him with word of how perfect you look together."

"Tell him how good I look hanging off the arm of a _jock_," drawled Kurt lasciviously, his eyes twinkling as Dave chortled at the appellation.

"He's gonna hate that," chuckled Jeff.

"I know," purred Kurt mischievously, as the five boys burst into laughter.

_The tension is here  
><em>_The tension is here  
><em>_between who you are and who you could be_

They all knew it was a risk finishing on _Dare You To Move_, but it summed up the coming months so perfectly it had given their performances an energy and ferocity the audience couldn't help but get swept up in. As slick as the Warblers' performance of Justin Timberlake's _My Love_ had been - slicker than the preview Kurt had heard on his last visit to Dalton to confront Blaine - they knew they had to throw everything into a set list that engaged the crowd.

And yet, as usual, as the results were about to be revealed, Dave found himself succumbing to nerves. It had come down to them and the Warblers. _Again._ Had he done enough? Had he let them down? _Please god, let us get to Nationals,_ he thought to himself. _I'll never forgive myself if I screw this up for Kurt._

_Where you gonna go?  
>Where you gonna go?<em>

"And the winners of this year's Regionals... _the New Directions!_"

Dave and Kurt dove into each others' arms in relief, whooping in exultation at the result as cheers and hollers rang out around them. "We did it!" cried Dave emotionally. "We did it, Fancy! You're going to Chicago!"

"And you're coming with me, Dave!" cried Kurt. "Oh god, I can't wait!"

As Will and the rest of the New Directions were presented with the trophy, it felt like nothing could beat them. They knew Nationals would be a struggle, but for now, it could wait. They knew they were going to make it there.

For now, that was all they needed.

_Salvation is here._

* * *

><p>Dave felt anxious. He'd been called into the living room to discuss something with his parents. Was it about Kurt? Had Burt changed his mind? Were they about to put the boot into the whole wait-a-month-then-do-what-you-like deal?<p>

"Son, we'd like a word about you and Kurt," invited Paul, with an air of unease that suggested to Dave he was absolutely right. _Oh god, no,_ he thought, his heart sinking. _Please, don't do this to us._

"Is... is this to do with what Burt and I talked about after Kurt and I got back from our first date?" he asked nervously.

Paul let out an unsettled breath. "In a manner of speaking," he confirmed.

"He's had a change of heart, hasn't he?" guessed Dave miserably. "I thought he'd come to me about that."

"No, he hasn't, I can assure you," replied Paul as calmly as he could, given the topic he was about to raise.

"Then... _you_ have a problem with it?" gasped Dave, kicking himself for not making sure his own parents were okay with the idea.

"Actually, we, uh..." Paul stumbled. He coughed and tried to regain his composure. "We'd like to, uh... offer you a little privacy next weekend. It'll be about a month by then, right?"

Dave almost fell over. As it was, his jaw prepared to bungee from his face. "Uh... yeah," he confirmed eventually. He paused to think. "No, wait!" he spluttered. "It's one day short!"

Paul let out a brief chuckle at Dave's strictness regarding the date; it helped ease his mind a little. "I've discussed it with Burt, he's fine with it," he smiled.

"You've... you've talked to him about it?" asked Dave timidly, feeling a sudden sense of uncomfortable exposure at the idea that their parents had both been discussing... their _sex life_.

"We both feel it's ridiculous to get picky over the matter of one day," explained Paul. "Besides, we kinda remember how we were at your age." He felt an urgent need to qualify his statement. "Only uh, with, with _girls_, obviously," he added hurriedly, to Dave's amusement.

"You really aren't gonna stop us?" ventured Dave hopefully, fighting the urge the grin.

"You'll have waited a month, as you were asked to," acknowledged Paul, "and it's only fair we keep our end of the bargain so we'll be heading off for the weekend by ourselves so you can, well... be together." Unsurprisingly, he couldn't quite bring himself to say _have sex_. "I would, however, uh..." The awkwardness settled in once again. "...sound a note of, uh... _caution_," he suggested finally, struggling to find the right words.

Dave's face fell. "Oh god," he cringed. "You're giving me... _the talk_, aren't you?" This was going to be insufferable. Also, what could his dad tell him about gay sex that he didn't know himself? Not that he knew much, but... _Oh god, please don't let this be dad's big revelation about some kind of experimentation he tried out at college!_

Paul grimaced, and nodded. _As if this wouldn't be awkward enough with a straight son. Christ on a cracker..._ "I just want to make sure you understand the, uh... _risks_ involved in certain, uh, practices," he ended weakly. The less he thought of such _practices_, the better. Especially where his son was involved.

"Uh, dad," interrupted Dave. "Kurt's only ever had sex with one guy, and they were both virgins," he explained. "And I've never had sex, so... there's no risk that I'll catch something. I think we're pretty safe," he smiled.

Paul looked him in the eye. _Shit, he's completely misunderstood._ "Actually, son," he rebutted, "I was referring to the... _physical_ risks."

Dave actually hadn't considered that sex could be dangerous. At all. Physical risks? What...? "Ph... physical?" he asked haltingly. "I... I'm not quite sure what you mean, dad."

Paul was trying not to concentrate too much on the conversation he was having with his _son_ about _gay sex_ with his _boyfriend_, while trying to make sure he didn't say anything he'd end up regretting later. It was a tricky balance, and it was excruciating. He wanted to crawl up inside himself and die. "Well..." he faltered. "That part of your body, uh... is kind of... _fragile_," he ventured.

Dave winced. "You mean... be careful not to catch him on my, uh, teeth?" he suggested, clearly thinking Paul was referring to fellatio and the sensitivity of the penis.

Paul scrunched his eyes shut. _Oh Jesus. Why the fuck did I ever think this was a good idea?_ "No, son," he cringed, "the, uh..." His hand pointed downward as he fought to string the rest of the sentence together. "The... _other_ end."

Dave suddenly understood what his father had been referring to... and the conversation reached a new peak of awkwardness. "Oh _god_," groaned Dave in embarrassment. He paused for thought. "Wait," he asked. "What kind of... of, uh... _risk_ d'you mean?" He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.

"I understand there's a risk of, uh... _rupture_," explained Paul, opening one eye and glancing at Dave, who looked horrified.

"Are you saying it could... ri... _rip_ me?!" he spluttered.

Helen came in from the kitchen, having only heard part of the conversation: it had been enough. She came to Dave's defense. "It's very unlikely, son, don't worry," she offered soothingly. "Just make sure you use an adequate... um..." When it came to the details, however, just like Paul, Helen found herself stumbling.

"Lube?" asked Dave, feeling deeply awkward about even bringing up _lube_ to his parents. Helen exhaled in relief, and nodded.

"Also, what you said about the teeth," noted Paul. "That's actually a good point too."

"_Jesus,_" hissed Dave in alarm. "Are you both trying to put me off sex?"

"Really, son," assured Helen comfortingly, "I don't think you have any cause for concern about, uh... I believe they refer to it as 'being a bottom'?" Dave blushed so hard he thought his face was on fire.

"I... I _can't_ be talking about this with you guys," he grimaced, looking _anywhere_ but at his parents. This wasn't just embarrassing, it was _humiliating_: his own mother had just referred to him as someone who ..._received_. The _submissive_ one. He couldn't even imagine doing that, it just seemed... _painful_, somehow.

And he found himself thinking of Kurt. And pain. And a wholly different sense of unease gripped him. What if he ended up hurting Kurt somehow? What if...?

"It's okay, son," assured Helen calmly. "Just remember you love each other - that should make everything that much easier. It should all come naturally."

"But... what if it doesn't?" asked Dave timidly.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," smiled Helen gently, looking Dave in the eye. "_Together,_" she added pointedly, with a nod.

Dave should have felt assured by this, but he just felt more unsettled. _I wish I had your confidence, mom,_ he thought nervously.

* * *

><p>Kurt, however, had no such concerns. "The weekend?" he grinned excitedly as they stood together outside Kurt's locker. "Alone?"<p>

Dave nodded silently, the conversation with his parents still stuttering away awkwardly and stiltedly in his mind. "You don't exactly seem thrilled," noted Kurt, his excitement fading at Dave's reaction.

"It's just..." Dave let out a fretful sigh, and looked at the ground. "Jesus, Kurt," he replied timidly. "This could go so wrong, in so many ways..."

"Hey. Whoa. Just... hold it there," interrupted Kurt urgently, eager to assuage Dave's worries. "You really think I wouldn't stop you if it didn't feel right?"

"That's it, Kurt," shrugged Dave miserably. "What if I can't... do it right?"

"We've got all weekend to figure it out, babe," smiled Kurt encouragingly.

"That's no guarantee, Kurt," sighed Dave.

Kurt involuntarily snorted at the crazy notion that Dave "Duke Stud" Karofsky was no good in bed. "C'mon," he guffawed. "You're telling me you wouldn't even be able to give head?"

Dave paused, imagining the situation. The two of them, naked together, Dave's face buried in Kurt's crotch... Dave's tongue gliding up and down the length of his cock... which was hitting the back of his throat and making him _gag_. The eroticism of the situation met the fear of failure head on and left Dave feeling utterly confused. "I've never done it before," he gulped, suddenly conscious of his gag reflex.

"Exactly!" shrugged Kurt. "You've never done it before, so I'd be crazy to think you'll get it right first time. All you can do is try, babe," he suggested. "And you know what they say - if at first you don't succeed..." he grinned, his voice becoming just slightly husky at the suggestion.

Dave picked up on it, and couldn't help but grin. "...try, try, try again?" he giggled, suddenly remembering they had all weekend to _try, try, try_ to their hearts' content.

"Just think," grinned Kurt. "In a few days, you'll be a _practicing_ homosexual." Kurt tried not to laugh at the pun, but the moment the two boys locked eyes they both went to bits.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Or maybe - just maybe - it'd be _awesome_.

* * *

><p>Kurt nervously knocked on Dave's front door. He'd dressed for the occasion - not too many layers, as he was hoping to discard them long before the evening was over, and <em>how<em> did Dave bring out that side of him so easily? - but he still couldn't shake the nagging feeling he wasn't sexy enough. Dave was all over him whenever they had the chance, but this... yeah, this was something else. Dave would inevitably see him _naked_ over the course of the next few days.

He hoped it didn't end up with Dave pointing and laughing.

The door opened, and he put on his best take-me-to-bed expression for Dave - only to find himself looking at his _father_. His expression immediately snapped to one of respect and decency, which must have looked weird. "Hi Mr Karofsky," he squeaked. He actually _squeaked_. This really wasn't going well at all - where the hell was Dave?

"Hi Kurt," smiled Paul kindly. "Please, call me Paul," he insisted, offering Kurt his hand.

Kurt smiled back as he cordially shook Paul's hand. "Is, uh, Dave here?" he asked lamely. Of course Dave was there, he wouldn't have missed this weekend for the world, but... why hadn't he answered the door himself?

"Right here, babe," sighed Dave from the living room. "Dad insisted on answering the door."

"Oh Kurt, you're here!" beamed Helen, making an appearance from the kitchen. "Come in! Dave's been fretting that you'd had second thoughts about the whole thing." Dave's face immediately bloomed bright red - which, of course, Kurt found adorable.

"Not a chance," grinned Kurt, making his way indoors. "You've raised quite the gentleman here, I feel absolutely safe in his arms." Helen and Paul both beamed at the compliment, and Helen hugged Kurt in gratitude.

"Well, he's still awfully new to all this," noted Paul. "Be sure to break him in gently," he grinned mischievously. Helen gave him a playful glare and a pout, coupled with a slap on the arm as a wordless instruction to _stop teasing your son, you big meanie._

Kurt was briefly speechless, and Dave was visibly flustered at the instruction, but Kurt rallied well. He looked Paul in the eyes. "Don't worry," he smiled with a glint in his eye. "I'm sure he'll taste _delicious_." Suddenly Paul was on the back foot, and Helen chuckled at Kurt's retort.

"I have no sympathy," she grinned to Paul, prodding his arm. "You brought that entirely on yourself." Paul sighed in defeat and nodded, inwardly kicking himself. Helen turned to the boys. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time," she smiled. "Just... try not to make a mess." She paused briefly, suddenly realizing that _getting messy_ may well be part of the proceedings. "Uh..." she faltered.

Kurt grinned. "Don't worry, Helen," he nodded. "We'll clean up any mess we make." Helen sighed in gratitude at the graceful recovery, she and Paul said their goodbyes, and suddenly Kurt and Dave were alone. Dave wrapped Kurt up in his arms, relishing in the sensation as he always did.

"Delicious, huh?" he asked with a widening grin.

Kurt chuckled with a shake of his head. "I might have to feed you full of pineapple," he smiled. "I've heard it, uh... improves the flavor."

Dave's jaw dropped. "Pi...? I'll be damned," he breathed in amazement.

"What's up?" asked Kurt.

"I thought mom was giving me pineapple juice all day as some kinda health kick," grinned Dave. "Damn, that was sneaky."

Kurt's jaw dropped in response. "Oh my _god!_" he guffawed. "I might have to thank her when she gets back," he chuckled. Their eyes met, and their easy intimacy took hold as they kissed each other hungrily, holding each other tightly against one another. Eventually, they came up for air.

"Lets take this to the bedroom," gasped Kurt, eager to see more of Dave. He hadn't seen him topless in a while, and he wanted more.

"Music to my ears," beamed Dave. They raced upstairs to Dave's room, and Dave wrapped Kurt up in his arms once again - and suddenly realized how little he'd actually seen of his boyfriend. "I still haven't seen you even topless!" he grinned. "C'mon, start peeling off all those layers!"

"Hey!" Kurt pouted incredulously. "I dressed _light_ for this weekend!" As if to punctuate the point, he nimbly unbuttoned his shirt and swiftly slipped out of it, draping it across a nearby chair, leaving him standing before Dave in tight jeans and a plain white wifebeater. Dave's jaw once again feel slack and his tongue dangled slightly over his teeth as he took in this entirely new, surprisingly _masculine_ vision of Kurt; he wasn't just skinny, he was _wiry_. He'd always tried to avoid paying attention to Kurt whenever he'd shown off much of himself while they weren't together, and this was the first chance he'd had to really take in Kurt's physique.

It was beguiling. Lean, taut, with an athletic strength belied by his slender figure. "Jesus, you've never looked so sexy," breathed Dave hoarsely, his breath quickened by the sight before him. Kurt's breath hitched at the compliment, so nakedly and unashamedly stated; he could never hear enough about how sexy Dave found him, and immediately flew into his arms, wrapping him up in a powerfully passionate clinch as he locked their lips together.

"Oh god, Dave," gasped Kurt as they broke apart for air. "I'm gonna be your _first_."

The comment only reminded Dave that Kurt's first had already been and gone. He regarded Kurt with a trace of melancholy. "I just wish I could have been yours," he sighed.

Kurt winced at the realization that Dave was still stung over Blaine beating Dave to the punch. That one time no longer meant a thing to him, and he wanted Dave to understand that. To all intents and purposes, _this_ was his first time. This meant more. And it wasn't Dave's fault he'd missed out, it was... _Oh god, it's so obvious._ Kurt suddenly had the words to express it all. "Hey, that was _my_ mistake," he insisted, taking ownership of what he now considered the mistake he'd made. "The important thing here is that I'm _your_ first. You _waited_ for me, Dave. That..." He swallowed down the lump suddenly lodged in his throat. He wanted Dave to understand how important it all was. "D'you know how much that means to me?" he smiled rapturously, gazing into Dave's eyes as though all the secrets of the universe lay in them.

Dave suddenly _did_ understand. The way Kurt felt about him made that so-called first time a mere aberration; yes, Blaine had been intimate with him first, but _who cared?_ The meaning of this - of their first time, of Dave having waited, of them both wanting so much to be intimate with each other, to _share_ themselves with one another - was all that mattered. The beaming grin upon Dave's face told Kurt all he needed to know. This moment here? _This_ was the first time. All else that had come before was a mere distraction.

Seeing Dave's understanding, Kurt saw his chance and pulled Dave's t-shirt off - _not one of those ridiculous stripey t-shirts, thank god,_ thought Kurt,_ he seems to be shaking __**that**__ sartorial habit_ - and his breath was knocked out from him once again. He'd never get tired of seeing Dave topless.

_And if the top's this good..._

Kurt immediately busied himself getting Dave out of his jeans - the same sexy jeans he'd worn to their first date. And their second. By their third, he'd seemed to have gone on another shopping spree with his _troupe_ to their mutual gain, because the jeans were different. And the top he'd just pulled off him was _new_.

Yeah, details like that definitely made a difference. They showed Dave cared about it all. About _him_.

Having stripped Dave to his briefs, Kurt decided to strip himself for Dave, first slipping out of his shoes, then teasingly pulling his socks off and flinging them toward Dave, leaving one draped over the dazed jock's shoulder as he literally started drooling, before shimmying out of his jeans and whipping off the wifebeater. Dave was transfixed, his erection straining against his briefs. Kurt rejoiced in Dave's response to his stripping, and his own body responded in kind; his head swam with the thrill of being so undeniably lusted after, and he knew he'd never get tired of it.

He slipped his own briefs down, his dick twanging upward and slapping his torso as the elasticated waist slid down past it, leaving him naked. Dave was still wearing his briefs, and Kurt immediately decided to deal with them: he wandered slowly over wearing a broad smile, and tucked his hands down inside either side of them, sliding them down, eliciting a loud gasp from Dave, borne of the combined thrill of the contact, the undressing and the sensation of his own arousal springing loose.

As they stood naked in each others' arms, their erections pressed against each others' abdomens, they found themselves surprised at how satisfying it felt just to stand there, held against one another, kissing each other like kissing was the only thing in the world - at least, for the moment. Their hands began to stray, and Kurt found himself exploring Dave's bewitching torso. An audible gasp left Dave once again, as Kurt's hand accidentally brushed one of his nipples.

"Sensitive nipples," mused Kurt, raising an eyebrow. "I'll have to remember that," he grinned, catching Dave's line of sight. Dave chuckled and nodded. _Hell yeah, more of that, babe. That was... __**nice**__._ They both felt ready for the next step, and Dave turned his head to face the bed... and paused.

"I... I'm not sure what we do next," he confessed.

Kurt smiled at Dave's innocence. It was _adorable_. "What would you like to do?" he asked.

Dave figured it was best to be upfront about his fears. "Well... when I think of... y'know, _anal_, it just kinda spooks me," he admitted. "I dunno if I'm ready for that. Not yet."

Kurt nodded understandingly. "That's okay, we could always... use our _tongues_ instead," he suggested with an impish grin.

Dave totally misunderstood. "I'm even _less_ sure about rimming," he winced.

Kurt's eyes flew wide open. "Uh. Dave, I was talking about _going down_ on each other," he chuckled.

Dave's eyes lit up at Kurt's explanation. Oral he could totally cope with. "Oh. Right! Like, 69?" he asked eagerly.

Kurt reined him in. "Easy there, tiger," he smiled. "We'll go one at a time, we don't even know how we respond to each other yet!" he cautioned.

Dave considered Kurt's suggestion and saw the point, but was eager not to leave him waiting one more moment. "Okay, but I'm on you first," he insisted.

"Why so eager?" asked Kurt, a note of amusement entering his voice.

Dave locked eyes with him, determined to be understood. "You've waited this long for me," he explained earnestly. "I don't wanna make you wait any longer." He brought his hand up to Kurt's cheek and cupped it. "I don't even want you to have to wait until I'm done."

The gesture took Kurt's breath away. "Wow," he gasped, unprepared for Dave's sudden burst of chivalry. "That's... that's actually quite sweet," he beamed, moved by the selfless offer.

Dave felt it only fair to reveal his sole ulterior motive. "Well, that, _and_ I really wanna know what your dick feels like in my mouth," he grinned.

Kurt giggled at the idea. "Well, not to issue any spoilers, but it'll feel _amazing_," he grinned, eliciting giggles from both boys. "Lets do this," breathed Kurt as he crawled onto the bed, inadvertently baring his ass to Dave.

Dave suddenly found himself a little _more_ sure about rimming. _Later_, he thought to himself excitedly. They'd have plenty of time to try that out over the weekend.

As it turned out, Dave's fears about being no good were unfounded; he seemed to have quite the knack, barring a slight hiccup where his gag reflex caught him off guard, causing him to choke and splutter, dampening the mood a little as Kurt backed out and fussed over Dave until he was sure he was okay. It hardly ruined things, however, as Dave could easily tell; Kurt started bucking into Dave's face and whimpering slightly as his orgasm approached, his eagerness to _get off_ overriding his concern for Dave momentarily. He barely regained his senses in time to warn Dave he was about to cop a mouthful - not that Dave would have pulled back. He'd fantasized about Kurt coming in his mouth so many times, he would have insisted. Hell, he'd have _begged_. "F-f-fuuu-_uuuuuck_," growled Kurt hoarsely as his orgasm overwhelmed him. Dave assiduously lapped up Kurt's load, amazed at how much he liked the taste of him.

Yeah, this was definitely happening again. _Kurt jizz for breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Fuck yeah, bring it on._

After a little break for Kurt to recover his wits and his breath, he scooted down to Dave's crotch to get busy. If he'd ever been under the slightest illusion that he wasn't gay, this would have sealed the deal: he even liked the _shape_ of Dave's dick. It was almost pretty. _Picturesque_, even. He almost didn't know whether to suck it or take a photo.

Almost, of course, because his lips were around it before he was even thinking it. It felt completely natural, and Dave found himself falling apart in the best way at Kurt's endeavors. Kurt relished the grunts and moans of unmistakable pleasure and delight coming from Dave, and hummed in response.

"Mmmmmmm," he purred, as he worked his way up and down Dave's cock. The vibrations only served to heighten Dave's pleasure, bringing him ever closer to the edge.

They also triggered a sudden and deeply unwelcome sensation in Kurt. He realized, to his horror and utter dismay, that he'd have to pull away - _Oh god, this is going to ruin __**everything**__ but I don't want to pull away because __**Dave's nearly there**__ but if I don't __**oh god I can't even think about it**_ - and he yanked his head away from Dave's vividly engorged dick.

The timing just couldn't have been worse, because Dave had reached _that point_. Dave looked down in absolute distress, seeing Kurt backing off and suddenly pulling this _face_. A sense of horror chilled his blood: even if he summoned every iota of willpower, he couldn't stop his body responding exactly the way it was designed to because he already had the all-too-familiar sensation of numbness in his legs... and his arms... yeah, he knew what was coming next.

_He was._

Dave found himself utterly mortified, and fought desperately to stave off the inevitable, gritting his teeth, holding his breath, anything that'd just _stop this_. But his body, mere helpless human meatsack that it was, could not withstand the torrent of chemical and autonomic responses crashing over it. As Dave let out a keening wail of despair at his body's betrayal, he felt the inevitable sensation he'd tried so desperately to hold back.

Dave was suddenly all over Kurt's face.

And neck. And chest.

He scrunched his eyes shut, barely able to bring himself to look. He suddenly heard a noise from Kurt, akin to a combined gasp and splutter. Of alarm and outrage, no doubt. Why wouldn't he? Dave had just blown his load all over his face. He knew the only thing to do was apologize. "Oh god, Kurt, I'm... I'm sorry!" he whimpered breathlessly. "I tried to hold on, I swear, I... I tried so har..." In the midst of his desperate pleas, he realized Kurt had burst out laughing. Dave's shame escalated as he felt Kurt was laughing _at_ him for not being able to hold back.

He was completely wrong; Kurt was laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation. "Dave, it's okay, I promise you! Oh my _god_," he cackled. "Really, it's fine," he continued, trying to stifle his amusement. "Oh fuck, I wish I didn't have to pull away because... dammit, I _really_ wanted to taste you!" he groaned.

Dave was utterly perplexed. Kurt wasn't pissed? "But... Kurt, I don't understand," he responded, his eyes now open, seeing the mess he'd made of Kurt's face. _Jesus, how much __**was**__ that, anyway? Sure didn't feel like that much._

Kurt tried to allay Dave's confusion. "It came down to a choice between taking a facial and involuntarily sinking my teeth into your junk," he explained. "Given that choice, I'll take the facial every time," he nodded with a grin.

Dave's confusion hit an unexpected peak, as did his alarm. "Your... what the fuck? Your _teeth?_" he spluttered.

"I had to sneeze!" grinned Kurt. "The moment I hummed it made my nose go apeshit. It was my face or your dick and I thought _fuck that_."

It all suddenly made sense to Dave, and he saw the funny side. _That_ was why he'd pulled the face! "Oh my god," chortled Dave, largely out of relief. "My first _ever_ blow job and you had to sneeze right at the end." Dave descended into a fit of giggles.

Kurt nodded and smiled. "Like I said, don't feel bad about it," he assured him. "This is all on me." He paused, and an involuntary snort of laughter burst out of him as he glanced downward. "_Literally,_" he cackled. Dave's giggling fit exploded into full-on belly laughs at the double meaning, and he fell back onto the pillows behind him. Kurt, too, couldn't help but laugh at the whole thing.

"I gotta hand it to you, Dave," cackled Kurt as he wiped ..._Dave_ off his face. "You made me feel like a _porn star_ tonight!" The two boys collapsed into each other and dissolved into hysterics and horseplay as Dave wiped his own semen off Kurt's face and smeared it on his own like moisturizer, prompting Kurt to lick it off his face, making Dave laugh even harder.

As first times go, it could have been better - but it could have ended up a whole lot worse. As it was... this felt just fine.

* * *

><p>Of all the places Kurt expected to be this weekend, Dave's ass hadn't even made the list. And yet, here he was. Balls deep.<p>

In retrospect, it had only been Dave's mention of rimming yesterday evening that had even set them on that road: Dave had casually mentioned how inviting Kurt's rear looked while they showered together that morning, and how he'd become a little preoccupied with the notion of shoving his tongue up there. He'd inadvertently put the thought into Kurt's mind, and Kurt found himself suddenly fascinated by Dave's tender virgin ass.

He also found himself boggling at the fact that the phrase "tender virgin ass" had even crossed his mind, but Dave was having that kind of effect on him. _Again._ He found himself wanting to try all sorts of new things. The fact that he had a hot jock boyfriend to do them with certainly helped with the willingness.

And after Dave had brought up the topic of rimming again, Kurt had added _getting in there_ to the list. Initially, Dave had protested; Kurt's pert butt had looked so inviting he'd actually begun to look forward to working _something_ up there, even if it wasn't his tongue, and he'd come up with the notion first, but Kurt was pretty persuasive. "This way, you'll get to enjoy it first!" insisted Kurt. "I got the first blow job, it's _your turn_."

Dave looked a little disappointed. "But... look, far be it from me to start busting out clichés, but... _damn, that ass_," he replied, growling out the last three words with a lascivious glint in his eye. "Forget what I said yesterday - I really want in there, babe," he smiled.

Kurt grinned at his hot boyfriend's eagerness to _be in him_. "Don't worry," he reassured him. "You will. This evening, maybe. But for now..." he instructed, his voice lowering hungrily as he grabbed one of Dave's exposed butt cheeks, "my tongue's in there." Dave found himself almost powerless to resist: when Kurt's tone became unexpectedly deep and husky, it did things to Dave that made him want to let Kurt do whatever he wanted. Kurt wanted to rim him? Dave would totally let him. Kurt wanted to top him? He... well... _Baby steps, dude. Don't go rushing in._

His severe reluctance to be Kurt's bottom began, to his utter astonishment, to ebb away under Kurt's rapt attention. Kurt's tongue felt stupidly good up there, and Dave's mind struggled to make sense of the sensory barrage his ass was encountering. He began to lose his will to Kurt entirely, and as his control fell away Kurt relished in the noises he got out of him.

At one point, Kurt could have sworn he'd heard a _squawk_ burst out from Dave.

Before long, Dave was pleading for more than just his tongue. "Please, Kurt," he begged - any trace of pride he may have been holding on to was now a long-forgotten inconvenience. "Want _more_."

Kurt backed out. "Jutht in the nick of thime," he nodded. "My thongue wath... oh, for fuck'th thake," he half-grunted, half-chuckled, twisting his _thongue_ back and forth, flicking it up and down a little to relax it after it had been so thoroughly exercised in Dave's nethers. "My... _tongue,_" he continued more confidently, "was starting to cramp up a little. Time to switch to fingers, I think," he suggested as he reached for the lube.

Dave wasn't content with mere fingers. He wanted something entirely more intimate. "But Ku-u-urt," whimpered Dave, his hole feeling deserted in the absence of Kurt's tongue. "Babe, I want your cock in me. I really want it."

"Oh, you'll get it," grinned Kurt eagerly. "But you're not ready yet, no matter what you might think." Dave groaned in protest; regardless of his actual readiness, he certainly _felt_ ready.

Until he suddenly contained two fingers. It wasn't the same. It was... _ow! Fuck, that's... ow!_ Kurt paid careful attention to Dave's reaction to his fingers, determined to keep from hurting him, but Dave was being unwisely stoic. Kurt was watching his expression as he probed, however, and could see Dave's discomfort. "Dave, sweetheart," he explained gently, "you have to tell me if it's painful, or it's not gonna go well. Can you tell me? How does it feel?"

Dave grunted in pain, his teeth clenched. "Want me to ease out a little?" asked Kurt. Dave nodded, struggling to speak. "Okay, babe," nodded Kurt compliantly, retreating his fingers until he was sure Dave had adapted to their presence. "I'm gonna stretch you a little, okay?" he explained. Dave nodded, a little more comfortable at Kurt's slight withdrawal.

After a while, Kurt had made it into Dave up to the knuckle. He'd suggested a third finger, as he had such slender hands, and Dave had surprised himself at how easily he'd accommodated it. "I... I think I'm ready," he breathed, his mind afloat on endorphins, his eyes fixing on Kurt's twitching cock.

"I think you are," breathed Kurt heavily, his breath quickening at the notion that he was about to be _in Dave_. He slicked himself up, a shudder of pleasure rippling through him as his hand passed over the head, and a sharp gasp of shock as he slowly entered Dave. The connection he felt in that moment was, quite literally, breathtaking; he'd felt a sense of intimacy with Dave before while making out with him, and certainly while fellating him, but this...

There just weren't words.

He briefly wondered if Dave had words for it. After all, with his command of the english language and all his polysillybilly_whatever_, he could probably write freakin' _poetry_ about what he was feeling.

Not a chance. Dave's mind was so bombarded by unfamiliar sensations he barely even had _language_. Apart from a scattering of expletives, his vocabulary now consisted of three words:

_Kurt in me_

As Kurt moved slowly, carefully penetrating Dave a little bit more with each steady gentle thrust, he thrilled at Dave's expression of utter rapture, and soon found his scrotum making the slightest contact with Dave's buttocks. Dave, too, noticed the touch, and was jolted into speech once again. "...Was that what I thought it was?" he gasped dizzily.

Kurt couldn't help but grin. "I think my balls just touched your ass," he giggled, enraptured that he was as far into Dave as he could ever be - into that most private, secret part of him that would only ever be for Kurt.

"Balls... d-deep," stammered Dave giddily, the slightest smile traced across his lips, his nervous system still jangling with unfamiliar input. Kurt grinned back and slowly continued to thrust in and out of him, until eventually Dave's eyes flew wide open and a sound not unlike a _bark_ exploded from him.

"Dave?" asked Kurt, torn between fear and hope - fear that he'd hurt him, and hope that he'd found that part of him which would do the exact opposite.

"Again!" gasped Dave desperately. "D-do that again!"

Kurt eagerly thrust into Dave once more, now certain that he'd found the spot he'd been seeking out. Dave began to unravel completely, emitting guttural grunts and yelps as Kurt pushed into him with ever increasing speed, colliding with his prostate in a way it had never been subject to. There was only one way his body could respond.

"Kurt, I'm... I'm gonna..." babbled Dave, trying to warn Kurt of the sensation threatening to overwhelm him.

The thrill of it all heightened Kurt's arousal to fever pitch. "F...fuck," gasped Kurt. "Me too, baby," he gasped heavily. "Come for me, Dave." He locked his eyes to Dave's.

"Come for me."

Dave's body urgently obeyed, and a guttural howl erupted from Dave as his orgasm took over him completely and he painted himself liberally across the chest and abdomen. The sight of Dave losing the last vestiges of control pushed Kurt over the edge as his own grunting reached a crescendo, and he felt his body surrendering to its own climax with an exultant cry.

Kurt collapsed, exhausted, upon Dave. Neither of them had expected it to be so exhilarating: their fears of hurting each other had dwindled to nothing as they now knew how to handle each other, and Dave found himself looking forward to the chance to repay the favor.

"This evening, you said?" breathed Dave, still exhausted from their lovemaking.

Kurt didn't get the reference immediately. "Wait, what?" he asked, a little drowsily.

"I get to do this to you this evening, you said," grinned Dave.

Kurt suddenly giggled at the recollection. He _had_ said that. "I said _maybe_," he grinned playfully.

"Trust me, babe," sighed Dave blissfully. "You _don't_ wanna miss out on this." The earnest look in Dave's eyes caught Kurt by surprise, and he found himself suddenly eager to endure what Dave had gone through... that evening. Right now, he just wanted to snuggle.

"This evening," he sighed merrily. "This afternoon... we're going _shopping_."

Dave snapped out of his reverie. "Whoa, hang on!" he spluttered. "When was this decided?"

Kurt grinned. "When your _troupe_ heard we were having a weekend alone," he explained, raising an eyebrow. "They insisted that we spill the beans."

Dave grinned lewdly. "Thought we just _did_ that," he winked.

"_Beans_, Dave, not _seed_," giggled Kurt. "Anyway, I want the opportunity to dress you up _personally_."

"Thought you only wanted to _undress_ me?" grinned Dave, his mind making itself at home in the gutter.

"Oh, that comes later," winked Kurt. "I just want to see how good you can look with the clothes _on_."

"Well, not to issue any spoilers," giggled Dave, echoing Kurt's sentiment from the previous evening, "but I'll look _amazing_." It was uncharacteristic of Dave, what with his self-confidence issues still lingering slightly, but he was still buzzing slightly from post-orgasmic euphoria.

Kurt could tell, and almost felt bad that it had to wear off. He really liked Dave's confidence.

He wanted to make it permanent.

* * *

><p>Dave's smile had faded as they sat at the dinner table. Sure enough, Dave had been right: the feeling of having Dave inside him earlier had been a revelation to Kurt, and they had both gleefully agreed they'd be happy switching roles. Surrendering themselves to each other had brought them closer together than they'd ever dared to hope.<p>

But for Dave, that only meant he had that much more to lose. Try as he might, he couldn't fight the ache inside him at the notion that, come September, they'd be yanked apart as they headed off to college, Kurt headed in one direction and Dave dragged off in another.

Kurt could see something was off. Way off. "What's on your mind?" he asked, concerned.

Dave looked away, trying to mask his upset. "It's stupid," he insisted. "Really."

Kurt was too concerned to take Dave at his word. Something was clearly bothering him. "You look sad," he countered. "It can't be that stupid."

Dave fought back tears as he tried to explain the scenario that had taken root in his imagination. "I just..." he gulped. "I'm trying hard not to focus on September, but... god, Kurt," he choked. "I don't wanna lose you."

Kurt suddenly understood Dave's pain, and immediately sought to assuage it. He looked into his eyes and took his hand. "Then _don't,_" he insisted, gently but with a quiet determination.

As simple as it may have seemed to Kurt, Dave could only see obstacles. "Kurt, we could end up hundreds of miles apart!" he replied tremulously.

Kurt took on a demeanor of resolute assurance. "I'll see your hundreds-of-miles-apart, and raise you _Skype_," he challenged, a note of triumph in his voice.

Dave wasn't buying it. "Skype?" he scoffed.

Kurt drove his point home. He _would_ get Dave to see they had a future. "It'll get us through the time apart," he explained. "And that'll only be a month at a time. I'm determined we'll get together at least one weekend out of four. We _will_ have time together, Dave," he asserted passionately.

Dave wanted to believe it would work, but his doubts and fears clouded everything. "I just hope it's enough," he sighed.

Kurt locked eyes with Dave. "You're gonna forget me that easily?" he challenged, forcing a response from Dave. He knew full well Dave wouldn't forget him. He hadn't even managed that while Kurt was at Dalton.

Dave looked at Kurt, stricken. "No! Jesus, Kurt, no! I never could!" he pleaded tearfully.

"And what makes you think I will?" asked Kurt comfortingly.

Dave's self-conscious streak finally drifted to the surface. "Because I'm... well... I'm just _me_," he gulped, a tear rolling down his cheek. Why would Kurt ever want him when there were so many other guys at college so much more worthy of him?

Kurt had finally exposed the root of Dave's insecurities about them enduring a long-distance relationship. He held on to Dave's hand, gazing into his eyes, determined to make him understand how he felt. "Dave," he breathed passionately, "_just you_ is the only thing I want. I didn't realize until we got together, but I'd actually wanted _just you_ for a while. And now that I've actually _got_ you, I'm determined to hang on to you for as long as you'll have me, using every means at my disposal." He found himself welling up as he bared his heart to Dave. "I _love_ you, Dave," he breathed hoarsely, his eyes stinging.

The undeniable power of Kurt's devotion to Dave tore the walls down, and tears rolled freely down his face, "I've gotta stop trying to convince myself this isn't gonna last," he choked. "I wanna be with you for the rest of my life." Dave's sudden naked honesty spurred Kurt into motion, and he rushed over to Dave and wrapped his arms around him. "I love you too, Fancy," sobbed Dave. "I always have."

"And you always will," replied Kurt tremulously. He backed out of the hug and looked Dave in the eye once more.

"_We_ always will."

In that moment, the two boys understood how determined they both were to stay together no matter what obstacles lay in their path. Whatever the geography, whatever the circumstances, they would find time for each other.

And up until September, they had plenty of it.

* * *

><p>The weekend had flown by, and yet it had felt like it had been a week. The two boys had barely left each others' side the whole time, and they were so blissed out over each other that even Santana's wisecracks during the previous day's shopping expedition had washed over them as if she'd barely spoken. They were now waiting for Dave's parents to return home, the two of them curled up on the sofa together.<p>

The parents couldn't have known that, however... and Dave had talked Kurt into pranking them. They waited until they could hear their key in the front door before launching into a scene they'd already conjured up between them.

"Is that your pa...? Oh god, Dave, get it out, get it out!" squealed Kurt frantically, the two of them sat on the sofa, trying not to laugh.

"Dammit, where's that towel?!" spluttered Dave convincingly.

"Ow! Jesus, that hurt..."

"Oh shit, is that blood? Kurt, I think there's blood!"

The two parents stuck their heads around the corner, dreading the scene that may be waiting for them. What they got was Kurt and Dave, smiling innocently at them.

"Hi mom," smiled Dave sweetly. "Hi dad."

"Paul! Helen! Welcome home," beamed Kurt welcomingly, as though nothing had happened. Paul and Helen looked around wildly for any sign of trouble, confusion setting in and steadily deepening.

"Gotcha," grinned Dave, as Kurt desperately stifled his giggles.

Paul and Helen looked utterly stunned, their expressions quickly turning to exasperation as they realized the boys had absolutely punked them. "I think this calls for _grounding_, Helen," huffed Paul, somewhat indignantly.

"Sorry dad," grinned Dave. "Couldn't resist."

"After we gave you a whole weekend of privacy?" queried Paul, playing the guilt card.

Helen saw a better way to retaliate. "To be fair, Paul, we had our fair share of fun this weekend too," she smiled, winking at Paul.

Dave's grin fell off as the revelation hit him. _Parent sex? Ew!_ "Uh..." he stammered, taken aback.

"It's been a _long_ while since I licked honey off your chest, hasn't it?" purred Helen coquettishly to Paul. His brief look of shock, and his unmistakable blush, suggested she wasn't kidding.

Kurt put the pieces together. Dave had a light dusting of chest hair himself, so his _father_... "Ew, honey and chest hair?" he winced.

"Good lord, no," smiled Helen. "Honey and _waxing_." Dave suddenly clapped his hands over his mouth as his eyes widened in horror.

Kurt wasn't about to be beaten, however. "Who needs honey when you've got flavored lube?" he challenged, a wicked smirk on his face, staring down Helen, daring her to try harder.

"Not our thing," retaliated Helen. "We preferred the nipple clamps." Paul's look of horror suggested she was either not kidding, or at least exaggerating. Dave held his hands up in front of himself, shaking his head desperately, as if it'd stop the words from reaching him.

Kurt refused to be outdone. "Rimming," rebuked Kurt. Dave tried to drown out the conversation; he could see his father taking the exact same tactic, with a similar lack of success.

"Snowball," smirked Helen with a gleam in her eye.

Kurt played his ace. "Prostate massage," he grinned wickedly. Dave blushed at the memory.

Helen's eyes gleamed as her smirk broke into a broad grin. "Right back at you," she drawled. Paul turned to Helen, appalled.

"I thought that was gonna be _our little secret_?" he hissed - loud enough for the boys to hear.

"What!?" they gasped together, bewildered. Helen clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she'd taken things just a bit too far. "You're bluffing!" insisted Kurt.

"She's really not," winced Dave in horror, trying hard not to picture it.

"Sorry!" whimpered Helen to Paul. "I kinda... got caught up in the moment."

"How the hell did you talk him into _that?!_" gasped Kurt.

"We, uh... started discussing... _things_, over breakfast, and he couldn't figure out what guys actually got out of... well, _that_," explained Helen. "So I explained to him, and... well..."

"He got curious?" nodded Kurt, filling in the blanks. Helen nodded in response as Paul blushed and tried to avoid eye contact with everyone.

"Not exactly how we expected to spend our Saturday morning," shrugged Helen with a wry smile.

Dave's jaw dropped as he turned to Kurt. "_Saturday morning?_" he hissed.

"You've gotta be kidding me," blurted Kurt in disbelief.

"Why, what's so special about Sat...?" asked Paul, before he figured it out. "Wait, we were...? _Both_ of us?!" gasped Paul incredulously at the coincidence.

Dave blanched at the revelation. "That wasn't the kind of father-son bonding I was expecting," he gibbered pallidly. Kurt urgently stifled a chuckle. "I said _bonding_," growled Dave irritably.

"It's not that," explained Kurt, fighting his amusement. "I was just thinking... you really are your father's son," he cackled, unable to hold back his laughter a second longer.

"Kurt!" yelped Dave and Paul in unison, both equally shocked. The synchronicity between them only served to escalate Kurt's amusement, and even Helen had to suppress a laugh at their unexpectedly coordinated reaction.

"Dammit Kurt, that's not funny!" grunted Dave, his face once again bright pink.

"Okay, Kurt," grinned Helen, "it's probably about time for you to head home." The point jolted Dave out of his embarrassment, and he turned to Kurt, sobered by the notion that he wouldn't get to see Kurt again until Monday - even though that was merely tomorrow. The look he wore stilled Kurt's laughter, and he took Dave's hand in his own instinctively.

Paul and Helen both saw how pained they were to say goodbye. "You'll see him again, son," assured Paul gently. "Remember, he's welcome here any time." He paused. "Just so long as there's no discussion of... certain things," he noted wryly, fixing Kurt with an intent stare, one eyebrow raised.

Kurt smiled humbly. "No more one-upmanship, I promise," he nodded compliantly. He stood up, prompting Dave to follow him, and they fetched Kurt's things from upstairs. As they made it upstairs, they just about caught the sound of Paul gently disparaging Helen over her mention of their exploits. "Sounds like it was a good weekend all round," smiled Kurt.

"I wish it didn't have to end," sighed Dave.

"We both knew it had to," shrugged Kurt. "Doesn't mean _we_ have," he smiled reassuringly.

Dave smiled weakly and nodded. "At least I'll get to see you tomorrow, right?" he shrugged. "Even if it is at school."

"Exactly!" confirmed Kurt brightly. "And after school, maybe we can practice Skyping each other..." he smiled eagerly, leaving Dave with no doubt at all about what they'd be doing on Skype together.

Dave instinctively blushed. "First time I'll have ever cybered," he grinned. "You're leading me astray, babe."

"Don't worry," grinned Kurt. "I'm taking the journey with you." The two boys giggled and wrapped each other in one last tight embrace before heading back downstairs with Kurt's things.

Dave suddenly felt a lot more hopeful about being apart from Kurt. If they were connected, if he actually got to _see_ Kurt even if it was on the other end of a webcam, it'd probably be enough to make each month apart seem like less... and maybe even make the weekends together that more special.

* * *

><p>Kurt was still enjoying his memories of the weekend by the time he got home, and walked through the front door wearing a look of deep satisfaction. He and Dave had slept together. They'd had sex.<p>

No. They'd _made love_. And it had been _awesome_.

"Welcome home, sweetie!" greeted Carole.

"Hey Kurt," smiled Burt, greeting his son. "Good weekend?" he asked, more out of politeness than any desire to discover _what went down in the tent_.

Kurt regarded his father, still looking like the cat that got the cream. "Daddy," he drawled huskily, leaning against the front door he'd closed behind him, "your little boy's become a _man_."

Burt's eyes bulged in alarm at Kurt's almost _sultry_ tone of voice. "Morbid curiosity urges me to ask... what the hell did he _do_ to you?" he winced.

A wicked smile spread across Kurt's face as he recalled his escapades with Dave. "What _didn't_ he?" he breathed blissfully. The profound shock on Burt's face made it difficult for Kurt not to burst out laughing; as it was, he decided to tease him a little. After all, they'd already managed to get a rise out of Paul... "Wait. Fisting. We didn't go within 9 yards of that one," he reported mischievously.

It worked like a charm. Burt was utterly discombobulated by Kurt even _knowing_ such a scandalous term. "_Jesus_, Kurt..." he gasped unevenly.

Carole decided to wade in to knock Kurt off his perch. "Kurt... I'm kinda hoping golden showers are on the _didn't_ list," she smirked audaciously.

Burt's bewilderment switched focus to her as he became collateral damage. "How the hell do you know about...? Ugh," he grimaced, gritting his teeth at the term.

Kurt's mouth fell open in dumbfoundment at the notion that his father even _understood_ the phrase. "How do _you_ know about...? Oh my _god_, dad!" he spluttered in horror.

Burt rushed to repair the sudden dent in his good name. "...In my defense, popular culture has a lot to answer for," he pleaded, holding his hands up in front of himself in surrender.

Kurt's hand immediately sought out his face, and he shook his head in dismay. "That does it!" he rebuked. "We are weaning you _off_ South Park!"

Carole couldn't help but chuckle at _her boys_. "You might wanna cut back on his Family Guy too, sweetie," she giggled, eliciting a disheartened, almost Marge-Simpson-esque grumble from Kurt. So much for teasing his dad about the weekend's exploits.

Parents. _Honestly._

* * *

><p>Dave had heard a lot of things in the locker room, but banter about his <em>sex life<em> - with _Kurt_ - almost seemed out of place. And yet, here they were... smack-talking him for being fucking _versatile_. Jesus. Like he was a part-time _girl_ or something.

_Man, they have no idea._

"I guess you'll be hitting the high notes soon, huh?" teased Puck.

Dave was taking it all in good spirits. Hell, he'd spent the past weekend getting laid. A lot. With the hottest guy in school. Who _loved_ him. What had _they_ been doing? "No way, man," he grinned back. "Not with the huge pair of conkers I've got," he bragged. The thrill of being with Kurt still hadn't worn off, even three days later, and Dave was still buzzing from it.

And cybering with Kurt, as it turned out, was _fun_. _Yeah, New York's gonna be fine_, he'd thought excitedly.

Azimio grinned. "Far as I'm concerned, man," he shrugged, "you get props from me for _gettin' some_."

Azimio's choice of words poured cold water on Dave's buzz as he bridled at the phrasing. "Dude," he winced.

Azimio was surprised Dave wasn't lapping up the plaudits. "C'mon, man, don't go all coy on us now," he grinned. "We all know you an' Kurt spent the weekend doin' each other!"

"Yeah, but d'you have to make it sound so... so fuckin' _seedy_?" sighed Dave. "What Kurt and I shared went way beyond just _gettin' some_."

"Yeah, but doesn't it, like, really fuckin' _hurt_?" asked Puck with a wince.

Dave shrugged. "Yeah, at first," he admitted. "But once you've loosened up a little and relaxed, you're totally ready."

"Yeah, but ready for _what_?" asked Puck. "I never really got anything out of..." Puck fell strangely silent.

By that point, however, they'd all figured it out. After a second of stunned silence, the locker room erupted into whoops, hollering and raucous laughter as Puck turned bright pink. "Jesus, Puck, you really are a freaky bastard!" chortled Dave.

"...Shut the fuck up, man!" spluttered Puck eventually, mortified that he'd revealed something so incriminating. "Everyone experiments, right?"

"Yo' on yo' own there, man," hooted Azimio. "I ain't _ever_ put anythin' up me."

"So who was he, Puck?" teased Artie with a big grin. "C'mon, you can tell us!"

"There wasn't a fuckin' _dude_," growled Puck indignantly.

"So... what, you stuck somethin' up there?" asked Finn with a grimace.

"I don't wanna talk about it," grunted Puck, willing the topic to go away.

Dave looked him up and down, and took a wild guess. "Puck," he grinned, "tell us you didn't use your mom's vibrator." Guffaws rippled across the locker room. Puck refused to say another word. He didn't have to.

His deepening blush and refusal to make eye contact with anyone betrayed everything.

"...Holy shit, you _did_!" exclaimed Dave, bursting into laughter at the revelation, as most of the other Titans fell into hysterics at the notion that Puck had experimented with his mom's sex toys.

All but one. Strando was sat a little further away from the crowd, grimacing at most of the exchange. Dave's punishing percussive training regimen was having its desired effect on him in that he didn't regard Dave as some kind of _freak_ any more, but hearing them discuss ..._sex things_ was still a step too far. Dave glanced his way and saw how uneasy he felt about it all, and decided to throw him a lifeline. "Want us to dial it back, Strando?" he asked genially.

"It's not even that," shrugged Strando. "It's... well, like Puck said, what d'you even _get_ out of it? What's up there?"

Dave smiled. "Dude, I thought you were acing Biology?" he asked.

Strando regarded Dave with confusion. "What's that gotta do with it?" he challenged.

"You could probably point out the prostate on a diagram, right?"

"Sure," nodded Strando. "It's right about..." A sudden realization hit him. "..._Oh_."

Dave grinned. "Exactly," he nodded, a little smugly.

"Am I missin' somethin'?" asked Azimio, now as confused as Strando initially was.

"I think it's like..." Strando tried to describe what Dave and Kurt must have experienced. "When two guys, uh... like, when one guy, uh... f... fuh..." Needless to say, he only got so far.

"Fucks another guy?" smiled Dave, helping the explanation along a little.

"Yeah, that!" nodded Strando with a sigh of relief, glad to be over the particular hurdle of using the F word in relation to gay sex. "I think it's kinda like, uh... getting a prostate exam or something," he concluded.

Dave chuckled. "Oh, man, it's so much more than that," he grinned. He explained the whole pleasure/pain drowning-in-brain-chemicals thing to rapt attention from the rest of the team.

"Yeah, but the prostate's a big part of it, right?" insisted Strando. "My uncle had a prostate exam off his doctor one time, and apparently he honked like a fuckin' goose," he chuckled.

Dave burst out laughing. "Jesus," he hooted. "When Kurt hit me there, I fuckin' _barked!_" he exclaimed.

"The fuck?" spluttered Strando, still giggling. "Hummel made you fuckin' _bark?!_"

Artie gestured toward Strando, still laughing with Dave. "Guys," he smiled. "I think Strando's over his gay issues."

Strando reined in his laughing fit at Artie's assertion, and nodded. "Yeah, fuck it," he grinned. "Life's too short for any of that shit. Dave's been on the team again for like a few months, and he's been with Hummel for a month or so. And everything's just the same as it used to be." He paused and caught Dave's eye. "Except _ow_, the fuckin' _bruises_," he winced pointedly.

"Don't worry, dude," smiled Dave. "I think you've learned your lesson. No more unnecessary tackles, I promise." He walked over to Strando and held out his hand. "Welcome back to the inner circle." Without missing a beat, he pointed behind himself with his other hand. "Puck, don't even go there," he grinned.

Strando took Dave's hand and shook it. "Thought he already had?" he smirked, to chuckles from everyone but Puck. He paused in thought for a moment.

"Think he washed it first?" he asked, a knowing look in his eyes. A moment of silence passed as the implication set in.

Then pandemonium broke out as Puck howled in dismay and the rest of the team fell about in hysterics once again upon figuring out that the last person it had been in before Puck had to be _his own mom._

Even Puck wasn't freaky enough to cope with _that_.

* * *

><p>"You can't deny," smiled Dave, "you both nailed it." Dave, Kurt, Rachel and Finn sat together in Breadstix, celebrating Kurt and Rachel's triumphant NYADA auditions. After two months of preparation, nerves and mild panic, they'd finally made it through without unraveling - although Dave and Finn were glad it was finally over. Being a combined support network for the two NYADA finalists had been quite the trial.<p>

At least they now had the weekend to look forward to, to unwind and shake it all off.

"If it hadn't been for you," noted Rachel, "I might just have fallen to pieces out there. You saved me, Dave," she smiled.

"C'mon," shrugged Dave. "All I said was, if it's not feeling right, have a back-up plan. And you did," he nodded. Rachel's initial choice of _Don't Rain On My Parade_ - the audition song she'd prepared herself for her whole life - had gone sour early on as she got the lines wrong and had to stop, and Dave's insistence that she have a back-up ready gave her the opportunity to leave the intimidating Carmen Thibideaux stunned by her revisitation of _My Man_, drawing inspiration from Finn, sat in the auditorium with Kurt and Dave, the three of them slack-jawed in awe of her performance.

"If you hadn't pushed her to do it, she might have stuck with her first choice and bombed. She owes you," smiled Kurt. "How _did_ you convince her, anyway? She'd have been pretty determined..." Kurt paused for thought before looking Dave in the eye accusingly. "You went topless for her again, didn't you?" he guessed shrewdly.

Dave couldn't help but grin. He knew the girl's weakness. "How else was I gonna talk her into it?" he chuckled. "Like you said, she's stubborn."

"Oh, who _cares_ how?" grinned Rachel. "The point is, it _worked_. Besides, Kurt, she compared you to _Hugh freakin' Jackman!_" she squealed. "Carmen Thibideaux compared you to someone of _that_ caliber. I'm surprised you're not doing cartwheels!"

"I'm trying to manage my expectations," insisted Kurt, fighting the urge to grin. "Not easy when you three are singing my praises like this," he admitted, succumbing to a giggle.

"You deserve it, Kurt," stated Dave devotedly. "You were spectacular."

"Funny how you were focusing on how he was 'totally hot' during the performance," noted Finn with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"What, he can't be hot _and_ talented?" rebuked Dave. "Finn, you're dating Rachel. She pretty much _proves_ you can." Rachel blushed at the compliment. Finn chuckled and nodded his head with a shrug: she _was_ talented and sexy. To Finn, at least.

"So I guess we start throwing everything we have at Nationals now, huh?" asked Kurt, still trying not to think of NYADA in case things went unexpectedly sour. The other three enthusiastically chimed in on the topic, Rachel raising _Let The River Run_ as a surefire smash, Finn proposing some kind of mash-up based on the roaring successes of Counterpoint week and Dave attempting to resist the notion that he and Kurt would duet once again.

As much as he liked the idea, he didn't think he could top their duet at Sectionals, and he wanted Kurt to have the chance to shine. Even though it meant he'd be going to New York, he wanted to do everything he could to help Kurt make it to NYADA, and a strong presence in a winning Nationals show choir team would help a lot.

Deep down, he knew Kurt would have done the same for him.

* * *

><p><strong>How d'you fancy a little Skyping later? ;)<strong>

_Awww, Kurt, can't I have the real thing? :P_

**Down, boy! :D I doubt we'll manage to find enough time alone. But for that, you know I would.**

_I know, babe. I'm only teasing. :) Already looking forward to it._

"You and Kurt already making... _plans_ for later_?_" observed Paul with a knowing look and a raised eyebrow.

"Dad!" grunted Dave, blushing as usual. Ever since the prank at the end of their big weekend just over two months ago, Paul and Helen had taken considerable delight in embarrassing their son about his all-new sex life. It was even easier since Paul had figured out they'd been seeing a lot of each other via their computers... practically _all_ of each other, from what he'd gathered.

The closed bedroom door had practically become a signal. It was easy pickings.

Paul chuckled. "Relax, David," he smiled. "I'm actually quite pleased you've made it through the past three months. You and Kurt are really in it for the long haul, aren't you?" he asked, his pride in Dave clearly showing.

Dave noticed, and relished the support. "We really are, dad," he smiled. "We mean the world to each other. I keep thinking about how things are gonna be after college."

"Sounds like you're less worried about how you'll manage _during_ college lately," observed Helen, entering from the kitchen. "That's a positive sign, sweetheart."

Dave paused for reflection. "Actually, you're right," he agreed finally. "I think... I think we're gonna make it," he beamed.

Helen placed a hand on Dave's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure you will," she smiled. She glanced at the mantelpiece, and frowned as she noticed something that shouldn't be there. "Oh, Paul!" she grunted. "You forgot to give David that letter that arrived for him today." She walked over, plucked the envelope from the mantelpiece and handed it to a confused Dave. Who'd be contacting him? He rarely got anything through the post.

Paul looked contrite. "Sorry, son," he winced. "I meant to mention that to you. Hope it's good news."

"You and me both," guffawed Dave, still mystified as to the contents of the correspondence. He ripped open the top of the envelope and fished out the contents... and his eyes widened as he noticed the logo in the top right hand corner of the letter.

He'd completely forgotten. He'd forgotten _this_. How could he have forgotten this? Especially after... after _everything_?

He read through the letter, and stopped abruptly. His mouth had dropped open from the shock of the news. "David? Sweetheart, what is it?" asked Helen, her concern blossoming suddenly from Dave's reaction.

Dave felt his heart almost stop. The letter fell from his hands as his breath became unsteady. He had to tell Kurt. He had to tell him _now_, and to his face.

This changed everything.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know, I'm a horrible **horrible** person for taking this long to get this chapter up (ARGH WRITER'S BLOCK ASFDSAGSDFSADGA) and then ending it on a massive cliffhanger. I'll get the next - and final! - chapter written up as quick as I can. I really appreciate your patience. *hugs*_

_- Liam_


	17. The Run Out Groove

_**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: The Run Out Groove  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (glad you liked the slight Blaine-bashing ;) )  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M (for lewd language, adult themes, off-screen sex scenes)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives, smut, references to gay sex  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 8,218  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: Kurt and Dave hear news that could change their future... and how will they handle prom when an unexpected face from the past turns up?_

_A/N: I'm so **so** sorry for letting this take so long. Writer's block is a bitch, and work's been hell for the past few months. I hope it's worth it. :/_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: The Run Out Groove<strong>

Kurt wasn't expecting visitors, and had prepped his webcam for a little fun with Dave, so the unexpected knock at the door was an unwelcome intrusion into his plans. "Jesus," he hissed irritatedly. "Can't a guy jerk off on cam with his boyfriend in peace?" He made his way to the front door, quite prepared to give both barrels to the uninvited interloper.

And completely unprepared to be faced with a red-eyed Dave, holding a folded document out in front of him. "Kurt," stated Dave hoarsely, "before you do anything else, you _have_ to read this. You need to see it for yourself." Kurt's irritation had evaporated the moment he'd seen the expression on Dave's face, replaced immediately with concern; this was something serious. Something that affected him, quite likely. Certainly something that affected Dave.

But what could it possibly be? Kurt's concern escalated sharply as he tried to work out what the piece of paper would reveal. He steeled himself, and unfolded it. The logo at the top immediately elicited a sharp gasp, and he only got so far down the page before his eyes flew wide open. He stared at Dave, dumbstruck, and clapped a hand over his mouth as tears sprang to his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>"David? David, talk to us!" Helen was becoming deeply alarmed at her son's reaction to the letter that now lay on the floor. His hands, having somehow found their way up to his hair, slowly came back down as he retrieved the letter, and handed it to her.<em>

_"You gotta see this," insisted Dave breathlessly. Paul stood up and came to Helen's side as they read the letter together. They had no idea what to expect - but the confirmation that he'd been accepted into a college was sufficiently good news to bring beaming smiles of pride and joy to both of their faces._

_That it was NYU, however, made Dave's reaction entirely explanatory._

_"You've done us proud, son," grinned Paul. "C'mere!" he insisted, reaching out an arm, inviting him into a hug. Dave flew up off the sofa and flung his arms around his dad as Helen wrapped them both up in a group hug._

_Dave soon broke contact. "I have to go tell Kurt!" he grinned, almost maniacally._

_Paul could see how psyched Dave was about the news, but knew full well he was far too overexcited to be behind the wheel of a car. "Hold it, son!" he warned. "You're in no safe state to drive yet. Stay here, calm down, then go tell him."_

_Dave paused for a second. "...You're right," he nodded. "Last thing I wanna do is... well, for that to be the last thing I do," he grinned._

_"He's smart, honey," smiled Helen to Paul. "No wonder NYU want him."_

_"He's fit, too," noted Paul proudly. "That'll be why they've offered him a football scholarship," he grinned, almost bursting with pride. Dave had made his way out to the kitchen, which suddenly became the epicenter of an exultant holler as Dave let out the exhilaration pent up within him._

_"I think he's happy," chuckled Paul._

_"After the year he's had, he deserves to be," nodded Helen._

* * *

><p>Tears were rolling down Kurt's face. Was this real? Could he even dare to believe it? An acceptance letter to a college in... "New York," he whispered tremulously. Dave nodded, a tear rolling down his face as he imagined the two of them moving east together.<p>

"New... New York," stammered Kurt. "You're go... _we're_... going to New York," he corrected himself. "Together." He looked Dave in the eye as the realization struck him. "Oh god, Dave!" he squealed.

Dave nodded, a few more tears rolling down. "I'm coming with you, Fancy," he confirmed. "I'm coming with you!" he cried delightedly, sweeping Kurt into his arms and burying his face in Kurt's shoulder. The two boys embraced like long lost lovers, and before long their lips had crashed together as the thrill of the good news spilled over into passion. A sense of jubilation filled them - they felt like celebrating.

And Kurt knew exactly how he wanted to celebrate the news.

He pulled out of the kiss. "Remember I said we wouldn't have time to, uh...?" he grinned.

Dave was blindsided by the recollection. Kurt could only be asking this because... "Uh... yeah?" he stammered, almost not daring to hope.

"Screw that," blurted Kurt hungrily. "I think we do, if we're quick." Dave's eyes flew open and his jaw dropped.

"Fuck, _yeah,_" he growled eagerly. He hadn't imagined how the day could have improved, but _this_...

"C'mon," grinned Kurt, making his way to his room as quickly as possible.

One lingering concern remained in Dave's mind. "Wait," he replied. "We're _totally_ alone, right?"

"Totally," assured Kurt.

"No Finn, no Rachel?"

A laugh burst out of Kurt. "No Finn, no Rachel," he giggled. "Come _on_, Dave!"

"You got it, babe," answered Dave keenly, hurriedly following Kurt to his room.

* * *

><p>"Remind me why we ever do our shopping on a Saturday morning?" grunted Burt. The supermarket had, as usual, been bustling, and he hated the crowd. He preferred to do his shopping in relative peace.<p>

"We forgot to do it yesterday evening," sighed Carole. "Lets never forget again, okay?" she suggested wearily. Burt chuckled and nodded as he carried several bags of groceries through to the kitchen.

They were rudely interrupted by the sound of a series of squeals, each a little louder and higher-pitched than the last. They looked at each other in surprise.

"Sounds like Kurt and Dave are, uh..." noted Carole.

"Oh, don't make me think of that," winced Burt.

"They're sure getting some good use out of their webcams," she chuckled.

"This counts as making me think of it!" grimaced Burt.

Suddenly another sound rang out. A second voice. _Dave's_ voice, reaching a similar orgasmic crescendo. "Holy shit, how loud does he have his speakers?!" blurted Burt in alarm, desperately trying not to think of what they were up to.

"I'll go ask him to turn them down a little," smiled Carole sympathetically.

Upstairs, the two boys were crashed, Dave on top of Kurt and still inside him. They were both in a state of utter bliss; the sex was good, as usual, but the news that led them to it... "_Start spreadin' the news,_" sang Dave quietly, grinning from ear to ear. Kurt giggled at the reference.

Their mutual amusement, however, was rudely interrupted by Carole calling up the stairs as she headed toward the bedroom. "Kurt, are you decent?" she asked.

Kurt and Dave both turned pale. "N-no!" spluttered Kurt, panic stricken. "No, I'm not! Don-don't come in!" he babbled, trying not to become hysterical. He flew across the bedroom, scooping up his briefs as he reached out to a dressing gown, covering himself up in both in lightning speed. He flung a bathrobe in Dave's direction as his beau lay in bed, equally horrified. They'd been discovered.

So much for having time.

"You might want to turn down those speakers, Kurt," called Carole as she headed upstairs. "Dave was ringing through the house like a stuttering klaxon," she chuckled.

_Oh god, she heard us. Just let me __**die**__._ Kurt scooted out of his bedroom swiftly. "I'm sorry!" he blurted, his cheeks burning from the shame of it all. "It won't happen again!"

Carole grinned at Kurt's obvious embarrassment. "Thanks, Kurt, it's appreciated," she nodded. "It almost sounded like Dave was there in the room with you!"

Kurt found himself desperately trying to hold his nerve. For the most part, he managed... but his burning cheeks gave the game away. Carole, ever the vigilant mother, read Kurt's body language like a novel in large print. "You've got a pretty good set of speakers, Kurt," she probed teasingly. "It all sounded so... _realistic._"

And Kurt knew she'd figured it out. _Can the ground just swallow me now? Yes, I'm upstairs, but __**whatever**__._He screwed his eyes shut in embarrassment. "We... he came to me with some _amazing_ news. Like, the _best_," he pleaded, opening his eyes to match Carole's in an effort to be understood. "It caught us off guard and we... got caught up in the moment. Well," he confessed sheepishly, "more me than Dave. I practically dragged him upstairs."

Carole's eyes opened saucer-wide. This just wasn't like Kurt. "Good lord, Kurt!" she chuckled nervously. "Uh, what was the news?"

Kurt couldn't help but beam at the recollection. "He's scored a place in NYU!" he squealed excitedly.

Carole suddenly understood. This really _was_ amazing news. "Oh, sweetheart!" she smiled. "That's fantastic!" She nodded toward the bedroom. "I'd, uh, congratulate him personally, but..." she chuckled knowingly. Kurt blushed once again. _She knows I've got post-coital Dave in my bedroom. Oh __**god**__, this is mortifying._ "I'll smooth things over with your father, too, don't worry," she nodded reassuringly.

Ironically, this was the least reassuring thing she could have told him.

"Wait... da... _dad's_ here?!" he spluttered in horror. Dave had been eavesdropping on the exchange from inside the bedroom, having wrapped himself up in the bathrobe, and he almost felt his heart grind to a halt from the revelation that _Burt was in the house._

He couldn't have chosen a worse time to call up to Carole. "Kurt giving you some trouble up there, sweetheart?" he asked teasingly, heading toward the stairs.

Dave almost asphyxiated on the spot at the sound of Burt's voice calling up the stairs - shortly followed by his feet on the staircase. _Oh shit. I'm dead. I'm so fucking dead._

Kurt decided honesty was the best policy. "Dad, I beg you not to freak out," he pleaded.

Burt sighed. "Little too late for that," he grunted. "I heard _Dave_ over the speakers," he explained, directing a well-practiced glare of disapproval toward Kurt.

Kurt glanced at Carole, gulped, and fessed up. "He... wasn't on the speakers," he whimpered. Burt's jaw dropped in alarm as Kurt's point sunk in. "The house was empty!" he pleaded. "I swear, we didn't plan this, it just happened!"

"In fairness, Burt," noted Carole, "if we'd been a few minutes later getting home, we'd have missed everything." Kurt winced involuntarily at the recollection that he'd been caught having sex by his parents. Only barely, it seemed, but caught was caught. Carole could see from Burt's reaction that he'd need more. "Tell him the big news, Kurt," she suggested.

Kurt gulped and met his father's line of sight. Burt stared him down, and he turned toward Carole. "I don't think he's gonna listen," retreated Kurt, his voice suddenly small and timid.

"Try me," invited Burt sardonically. Carole nodded her encouragement to Kurt.

Kurt took a deep breath and tried to explain. "Dave came to me with a letter," he began. "It... It was a letter of acceptance from... from NYU," he continued. "Dad, he's going to New York!" he concluded, his eyes watering suddenly in remembrance of the moment he'd discovered the news himself.

It made a difference. Burt's features visibly softened as the magnitude of the news dawned on him; Kurt wouldn't be alone in New York. Well... wouldn't just have _Rachel_ there. "I'll be damned," he smiled. "Good for him," he nodded. He glanced toward the bedroom. "So you two got a little, uh, carried away by the good news, right?" he guessed shrewdly, smirking.

"_I_ got carried away," confessed Kurt shamefacedly. "Dave was... just the accomplice," he chuckled weakly.

Burt shook his head at the admission, but the smile remained in place. "He wasn't kidding, Carole," he guffawed. "He's definitely become a _man_." Carole chuckled at the acknowledgement that Kurt was now, without a doubt, _boy crazy_.

Dave figured this was his best chance to make it out in one piece. "Uh," he gulped, "is it safe to come out yet?"

Burt couldn't help but chuckle. "Thought you did that back in September?" he grinned.

Kurt harrumphed. "That was mostly _Blaine,_" he grunted.

"Actually, Kurt," recounted Burt, "he came out to me without any prompting. He told me straight out. Remember? The evening he came to us?"

Dave found himself caught off guard by the memory. He really had. It was only then that he realized Burt had been the first person he'd ever properly come out to. He decided to face the music - Burt couldn't be that mad if he was being so complimentary. He stepped out from Kurt's room.

Wearing only a bathrobe. Burt's eyebrows found themselves suddenly pulled toward the ceiling. Dave saw the look of shock and urgently sought to mollify Burt's concerns. "I swear, I treated him with respect and dignity at all times!" he exclaimed desperately.

Kurt couldn't help but giggle. "He really did, dad," he assured Burt. "To say nothing of devotion, tenderness, patience..." He paused, and looked his father in the eye, determined to be understood. "Dad, you know him by now," he insisted. "He's never been anything other than gentlemanly, and he's always treated me with honor and kindness. Hell, he almost tips into _worship_ sometimes," he chuckled. "He'll always take good care of me, dad," he concluded, wrapping an arm around Dave, who was struggling with the lump in his throat from the praise heaped upon him by Kurt. He gazed into Kurt's eyes as though they alone could sustain him.

Both Burt and Carole were blindsided by the show of affection between the two boys. "My god, you two look good together," cooed Carole.

Burt nodded in agreement. "Kurt, if I ever forget how crazy you two are about each other, feel free to remind me, okay?" he smiled cordially.

"I just _did_," huffed Kurt, to a stifled chuckle from Dave.

Burt wasn't about to let Kurt's barb pass, no matter how good the two boys were for each other. "Hey, now you're gonna be in New York together, there's no big need for the two of you to have so much private time while you're here," he teased. Kurt's face was a mask of horror; he didn't want to lose visitation rights before leaving for New York.

The shock hit Dave too, and loosed his tongue. "Are you kidding?" he gasped. "We'll be in shared dorms at different colleges. With two roommates to work around. And there's no guarantee they'll be cooperative," he explained. He let out a miserable sigh. "It'll be a total cockbl... uh," he spluttered, barely catching himself in time. He hurriedly rephrased his point. "It'll be... _intensely frustrating_ for both of us," he noted, a touch more meekly.

Kurt hadn't considered the implications of dorm life, and a whole new level of dismay struck him. "Oh god, I hadn't even thought of that!" he whined miserably.

Burt had stopped listening, however, the moment the word 'cockblock' had tried to escape Dave's lips. "I'll thank you _not_ to use language like that around my wife," he grunted to Dave, his expression stony. Dave began to wither under his glare.

Carole stood up for the boys, seeing them dealing with the pending realities of college life, most likely for the first time. "Relax, Burt," she rebuked. "It's not like I've never heard the word before, I'm not made of china." She faced the boys. "Don't panic, the arrangement stands," she smiled. "At least we can be sure there's someone with Kurt in New York to look out for him," she observed.

Kurt nodded in enthusiastic agreement. "He's brave enough to face you, dad," he smiled. "I'd say I'm gonna be pretty safe there with him."

Burt considered their arguments, and couldn't deny the logic. "Okay, I get it," he sighed. "I guess this once _was_ a special occasion," he smiled.

"I told you, Burt," assured Dave. "He matters." Kurt couldn't hold back the smile spreading across his face. He could listen to Dave talk about him like this all day.

"And while it's one thing texting 'courage' to someone," observed Burt sardonically, "it's a whole other thing demonstrating your own. You do that, Dave," he noted warmly. "More than you might realize."

"You bet," smiled Kurt. "You're so much better for me than Blaine, Dave."

The name brought to Dave's mind a recollection of his last interaction with Blaine. "I wonder how he's getting on these days," he mused.

Kurt looked at him like his hair had spontaneously sprouted gel. "What? Blaine?" he challenged in shock. "Why would you even give a crap about him? He was doing just fine at Dalton."

"Until you told the Warblers what he'd done," reminded Dave. "He probably ended up with hardly anyone to turn to." He paused for a moment. "I guess I can imagine how that must have felt," he shrugged.

"He brought it on himself, babe," insisted Kurt, rubbing Dave's arm soothingly. "You don't owe him any sympathy."

Dave nodded. "Oh, I get that," he agreed. "I guess it'd just be nice to know his state of mind. Just in case he comes crashing back into our lives, y'know?"

Kurt winced. "God forbid," he grimaced.

* * *

><p>The auditorium was filled with angels and demons, in keeping with the theme of the same name. It looked a little like a Supernatural convention where all the attendees were trying hard not to cosplay.<p>

But there was no denying how well it worked as a theme for prom. Santana had chosen not to reprise her devil-in-a-red-dress number from the previous year, instead going for a striking white suit while Brittany vamped it up in red. The two had put themselves forward for prom king and queen, with Santana running as king.

Kurt and Dave, too, were running for prom royalty. It almost mirrored last year's shock outcome, except this year Dave had talked Kurt into running as king, with Dave voluntarily choosing to run as _his_ queen for a change. It was a testament to how much he'd grown as a person that he'd come up with the idea himself.

He certainly looked the part, dressed in a magnificent white tuxedo. Kurt had initially not made the connection, thinking he was emulating the devil from Reaper, until Dave reminded him of Teen Angel from Grease.

Kurt had immediately demanded he perform _Beauty School Dropout_ at prom. As the New Directions were once again providing the music for the evening, he didn't have much of an excuse not to. As it was Kurt asking, of course, he jumped at the chance. Kurt was already in the set himself, due to perform Lady Gaga's _Monster_ in keeping with the theme.

The biggest surprise of the evening was Strando turning up as, of all things, _Cupid_ - in a toga. Not only that, but he'd sprayed his own hair pink. When waylaid by Dave, he explained his desire to serve penance for the way he'd treated Dave over the course of the year.

"In a toga?" asked Kurt, agog.

"Figured it had to be something kinda humiliating," shrugged Strando. "And Cupid fits in with the theme - he was a cherub, right? And they're a kind of angel, so..."

"Wow," guffawed Dave in admiration. "You got guts, man."

"Fits in with the whole 'cherub' thing, I guess," nodded Strando, placing a hand across his abdomen.

"No, I think he means you're _brave_," explained Kurt. Strando looked a little bashful at the compliment.

Dave decided to tease Strando a little. "Yeah, stood in front of two gay guys, wearing just a sheet?" he grinned.

"Dude, I've stood in the same room as you countless times wearing _less_," countered Strando casually. "Besides, I know how it goes - you two only have eyes for each other, right?" he smirked. "I'm totally safe."

Kurt giggled as he looked back to Dave. "He's got us pegged, babe," he grinned.

"Yeah," nodded Dave, glancing toward Strando before turning back to Kurt. "He's pretty cool these days." He turned and gave Strando a nod, assuring him that any animosity between them was by now a distant memory. Strando grinned, returned the nod, wished the boys well and went in search of the buffet.

Prom itself was entertaining for one and all, with surprisingly little drama - until Rachel got Dave's attention with troubling news. "There's someone outside asking to see Kurt," she relayed, clearly less than happy about the source of the message.

"Why don't they just come in and ask him, then?" asked Dave, a little confused.

"Because he _can't_," snapped Rachel irritably. "He doesn't come to this school any more."

Dave's mind immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. "Oh, fuck. Is Carter out there?" he blurted anxiously. He could defend himself against Carter easily, but he really didn't want any trouble. On prom night, of all nights.

"Relax, it's not him," grunted Rachel. She paused. "What would he want with Kurt, anyway?" she asked.

"He got him expelled with those photos, remember?" explained Dave, revisiting the plan they concocted in the aftermath of the attack on Blaine.

"Well... we _all_ did, didn't we?" shrugged Rachel. "We stuck together, Puck got him to even _come_ to the school in the first place, Lauren wiped the footage, we all had a part to play. Anyway, I told you, it's not _him_."

Mollified by Rachel's argument, Dave tried to figure out who else it could be. He could only come up with one name, but it seemed improbable. "I guess I'd better go out and see for myself, then," he sighed.

"Be careful," urged Rachel. "I don't know what he'll try on you."

"Don't worry," nodded Dave. "I'll be careful." He headed out to see who had come to see Kurt, in order to either intercept whoever it was or run interference. As he made his way outside, his jaw dropped.

He'd guessed right, after all.

"Blaine, what are you doing here?"

* * *

><p>Inside, Rachel had already headed over to Kurt to pass on the bad news. "Someone's come to talk to you," she sighed in annoyance. "Personally, I had to fight the urge to knee him in the balls, but I figure it's only fair to give you the chance yourself."<p>

"Who would I want to knee in the balls?" chuckled Kurt, albeit uneasily.

"Your douchebag ex-boyfriend, that's who," grunted Rachel. "Dave's already gone outside to shoo him away."

Kurt's face fell. "He... wait, what?!" he spluttered. "Dave? Blaine? Outside? Holy _shit!_" he yelped, before making his way outside as fast as his feet could get him through the crowd.

Dave and Blaine, however, had already started talking. "You realize just how much harm you did, right?" challenged Dave.

Blaine nodded morosely. "That's why I wanted to come back and... I dunno. Atone, somehow, I suppose." He sighed miserably. "But I don't know how to put things right," he admitted.

Dave paused for thought. "Well, when I stop and think about everything," he considered, "things already are right for, well... pretty much everyone," he shrugged. "I'm back at home, things are great there. I'm with Kurt, and it's _amazing_. And New Directions are headed to Nationals in Chicago. Hell, we even managed to use our attack on you to get a total douchebag turfed out of the school." He caught Blaine's gaze. "From where I stand, the only person who's _really_ lost out here," he mused, "is you."

Blaine's jaw drooped slightly as the truth of Dave's revelations took hold. And it was all by his own hand. "You're right," he gasped, stunned at how obvious it all seemed in retrospect. "You said as much at the hospital that time, I remember now. If I hadn't tried to keep you away from Kurt, I might even still be with him."

"Exactly," nodded Dave. "Blaine, you drove him _straight_ into my arms," he sighed, shaking his head in dismay for the forlorn figure before him.

Blaine's expression soured a little at the notion. "The Warblers took particular pleasure in telling me," he huffed.

Dave smiled sadly. He knew how Blaine was feeling all too well. "Still on the outside at Dalton, huh?" he guessed sympathetically.

"Yeah, still," nodded Blaine. "God, I miss it," he lamented.

"And Kurt, if you came all this way," observed Dave shrewdly.

Blaine immediately sought to head off the confrontation he imagined coming. "I... I'm not coming between you. I _won't_," he insisted, a touch of urgency entering his tone. "I've caused him enough pain. I'm only here to apologize in person." He stared at the ground in shame. "I hate that I hurt him so much," he confessed timidly.

Dave saw an opportunity for genuine atonement. "And me?" he invited.

Blaine felt a lump in his throat. He hadn't expected that. "...And you," he gulped. "If... if you'd died..." he continued tremulously, his eyes stinging slightly.

Dave raised a hand to stop him. "Lets not dwell on that. I'm still here," he smiled kindly. He paused to consider his next words, and saw a moment coming. "And I could still kick your ass," he continued.

Blaine regarded Dave nervously. "I know," he gulped with a nod. "You probably still owe me that."

"But that's not what I'm gonna do," assured Dave, making his way over slowly to Blaine.

"...you're not gonna kiss me again, are you?" stammered Blaine apprehensively.

Dave shook his head. "No," he replied as he reached Blaine, and wrapped his arms around him in a hug.

"I'm gonna forgive you," he whispered gently.

The shock of such an unexpected gesture of goodwill struck Blaine like a body blow, and he was in tears before the pain had even registered. "I'm... I'm so freakin' sorry, Dave," he pleaded desolately, the impact of his actions finally dawning on him following the recollection that he could so easily have been the major contributing factor toward Dave's demise.

Dave held him tighter as a gesture of support. "I know," he whispered. "I know."

Unbeknownst to the two boys, Kurt was stood rooted to the spot by the same door Dave had emerged from, feeling like he'd just witnessed the reenactment of a memory by two actors for whom the roles were wildly out of character.

And yet, somehow, the portrayal seemed absolutely faultless.

"My god, Blaine," he whispered, breathtaken.

Blaine caught the sound of his voice and looked over. Dave broke the hug and turned to face Kurt. "I don't expect you to forgive me too, Kurt," gulped Blaine, still tearful.

Kurt gazed over to his ex, surprised at the absence of animosity. Blaine was clearly not here to cause trouble, and Dave had just forgiven him exactly as he'd forgiven Dave himself... about a year ago.

Whatever burden he may have been carrying for the past, he suddenly found it was no longer there. "Seems little point in holding a grudge," he shrugged. "Dave and I are pretty much set, you're the only one here who's lost out."

He paused, and a decision formed.

"And if I can forgive Dave..." he declared, walking over before wrapping up Blaine in a hug himself, "I can forgive you."

It was beyond anything Blaine had dared hope for, and more than his conscience could bear. He burst into floods of tears on Kurt's shoulder, sobbing so hard it shook him.

"I've missed you so much, Kurt," he wept when he could finally form words. "We were such good friends before I... before I let my... my _stupid_ jealousy ruin everything."

Kurt found himself feeling sympathy for his erstwhile boyfriend, and remembered how well they'd fit together before they'd become romantically involved. "Maybe we can be again someday. I've missed having you as a friend," he admitted, breaking the hug. "I think that's one of the reasons I kinda lost it."

Blaine was stunned. "You mean that?" he sniffed, not yet daring to hope.

"Yeah," nodded Kurt. "God knows I love Dave like _oxygen_," he sighed, prompting a blush from Dave, "but there are things I just _can't_ talk to him about."

This knocked Dave clean out of his reverie. "Wait, what?" he spluttered. "Li... like what? I - I don't..." he stammered, at a loss to understand Kurt's shock revelation. "Kurt, what can't you talk to me about?" he pleaded. Blaine, too, found his tears drying up in surprise at this. Kurt had things he couldn't discuss with Dave? That didn't bode well, surely?

Kurt looked Dave square in the eyes. "Clothes," he explained.

Dave's alarm instantly dissolved into bashful self-awareness. Yeah, he _did_ still kinda suck at fashion, and had no idea when it came to talking the talk. "...Oh," he blurted. "Um. Yeah, actually, he's got me there," he admitted with a shy grin. Blaine chuckled inwardly at Dave's simple honesty.

"And he's got _no_ idea about coffee."

"Hey!" snapped Dave. This had been a bone of contention now and then, if only a mild one. Dave liked his coffee how he liked it, and Kurt had often teased him about it.

"He throws half a jar of sugar into his _cappuccino_ like that's _what you do_," pouted Kurt, rolling his eyes. "The phrase 'vanilla latte' may as well be in Swedish for all it means to him."

Dave shook his head, looking mildly put out. _This old chestnut. Jeez._ Blaine chipped in with a suggestion. "Oh man. If you have your coffee sweet, you _need_ to add the phrase 'caramel macchiato' to your insane lexicon," he urged.

Dave sighed at the suggestion. "I dunno, I think I prefer to keep it simple," he shrugged. "And 'insane lexicon'?" he asked, suddenly aware of Blaine's use of the term. He turned to Kurt. "You told him about that?"

Kurt winced. "I... might have talked about you more than I thought," he conceded reluctantly.

"Jesus," gasped Dave. "No wonder he was jealous."

"Not that it excuses my behavior," chimed in Blaine.

"God, no," guffawed Dave, as if it didn't even need saying.

Blaine shrugged. "It just killed me," he explained, "seeing him slipping away a little bit more every day."

Dave reminded himself Blaine wasn't here to steal Kurt away from him. He remained calm, but asked Blaine the question on his mind anyway. "You still love him, don't you?" he asked, surprised at how bad he felt for him as he said it.

"Yeah," nodded Blaine sadly. "But like I said, Kurt's happy with you, Dave. I told you, I can't get in the way of that. I won't."

Dave found himself developing a little respect for the boy. "Could you handle just being his friend?" he suggested.

Blaine brightened up a little at the notion. "Honestly? I'd love that," he enthused. "But that's Kurt's decision, not mine," he shrugged in resignation.

"Yeah," agreed Kurt. "It is." Blaine nodded in understanding; as much as he would have loved to have Kurt back as a friend, he knew he had no influence here. The decision was in Kurt's hands.

As was his phone.

"I uh... deleted your number in a fit of pique," he confessed with an embarrassed chuckle. "What was it again?"

Blaine looked for all the world as though he'd been given a pardon. After remaining motionless in shock, he frantically scrambled for his own handset. "I... Hang on!" he spluttered urgently, his fingers suddenly dancing a fandango across the screen. A moment later, Kurt's phone rang out with a message.

Kurt lifted an eyebrow. "I swear to god, if this says 'courage'..." he snarked with a mild smirk, earning a chuckle from Dave. He read the message:

_He's nuts about you. You're gonna be great together, I see that now. Promise me you two will last, Kurt. Promise me you'll be happy._

Kurt beamed at the sentiment as he showed the message to Dave, and looked up to meet Blaine's hopeful expression. "We'll make it, Blaine," he nodded reassuringly. "Like _oxygen_, seriously," he repeated, gesturing toward Dave who was also charmed by Blaine's message.

At that moment, Finn made an appearance, having been urged by Rachel to make sure everything hadn't gone to hell outside. "Kurt? I heard you'd come outside to see...? _Blaine!_" Finn flew toward the uniformed boy with equal motives of defence and attack, but Kurt and Dave held him back.

"Dude, it's okay!" insisted Dave. "We've made our peace, he's not here to cause trouble."

"...He's not?" Finn held fire, but regarded Blaine with suspicion.

Kurt added his support to protect Blaine; Finn still looked like he meant business. "No, Finn. I promise you, he only came back to apologize for everything," he agreed. "He's not going to try to win me back or any other similarly lost cause."

Finn started to back off in earnest, but still wasn't entirely convinced. "He's... really not gonna cause trouble?" he asked, searching for assurance.

"You have our word, Finn," nodded Dave. "No need for any _Blaine damage_ tonight," he grinned.

Blaine's jaw fell open at the unexpected pun. "'Blaine dama...' _Really?_" he gasped, glaring at Dave.

Dave shrugged, still grinning. "C'mon, you know me and the _words_," he chuckled.

Blaine huffed in annoyance. "I don't even have anything to retaliate with! What do I make of _Dave_?" he whined.

Kurt chipped in with a suggestion. "Concentrate less on his name, and more on his looks." A notion occurred to him, and a huge grin spread across his face. "It'll all be _laid bear_," he beamed, shamelessly pleased at his own wordplay. Dave facepalmed, chortling at Kurt's efforts. _Man, you've been around me too damn long._

The double meaning hit Blaine a moment later. "Oh no, don't make me think of that!" he winced.

It took Finn a moment longer, but it hit him twice as hard. "Oh god, Kurt, that... ew!" he wailed. He didn't want to think of Dave having sex _at all_, let alone with... _ugh._

Dave nodded toward Finn, still grinning. "I think you just destroyed his _Finnocence_, Kurt," he giggled.

"I know," chuckled Kurt. "And if we make _him_ think any harder," he continued, pointing at Blaine, "he'll have a... _Blaine hemorrhage_!" he cackled, earning a belly laugh from Dave and dismayed head shake from Finn. He'd seen _this_ all too often. Them with their... _words_ and shit.

Blaine was particularly nonplussed at Kurt's efforts. "Okay, this has officially stopped being funny," he grunted.

Dave threw one last witticism into the mix. "C'mon, dude, don't Blaine on his parade!" he giggled. Kurt glared playfully at Dave and slapped his arm, still smirking.

"I've seen them when they get like this," explained Finn warily. "The only thing you can do when this happens is _walk away_," he urged. He tapped Dave on the shoulder. "They're announcing prom royalty soon. Don't be long," he reminded him, and headed back indoors.

"Bye Finn!" waved Dave extravagantly, still giggling.

Something about Dave's last jab struck Blaine. "Hang on a second!" he gasped. "You just used a _showtunes_ reference! God, your gay is _really_ showing," he smirked, almost as a rebuke.

It didn't work, of course: Dave was far too comfortable in his sexuality these days. "Oh, you _think?_ I'm up for prom _queen_ this year. By choice," he nodded.

"And I'm running for king," added Kurt. "We figure we'd try to make it two straight terms!"

"Failing that, two very very _gay_ ones," grinned Dave.

Blaine let out a gasp of surprise and amusement. "Well, you nailed that," he smiled. "White suit an' all. Liberace would be proud."

The discussion brought Finn's reminder to the forefront of Kurt's mind. "That reminds me, we should go," he noted, gesturing toward the doors. "Finn said they'll be announcing the vote soon!"

"Yeah, we'd better get back inside," nodded Dave in agreement. He turned to Blaine. "Blaine... thanks again for coming," he smiled. "Can't have been an easy decision."

"I get Kurt back as a friend," shrugged Blaine, smiling. "It was totally worth it," he nodded.

Dave regarded Blaine with mild admiration. He definitely seemed to have done a little growing up in their absence. "You get me too, if you want," he offered.

Blaine considered the offer. "After all I know about you, and with things the way they are now," he mused, "I guess that makes me a lucky guy." He hugged Dave, and they parted ways as Kurt and Dave headed back inside. They turned back to see him off just before heading in, and saw Blaine waving to them.

"Hey Kurt, look," pointed Dave. "_Blaine wave,_" he giggled.

Blaine groaned loudly, gave Dave a playful skunk-eye and stuck up a finger, with a wicked smirk. Dave and Kurt both chortled at his reaction. Just as they reached the door, Kurt remembers something. "Oh, Blaine!" he called out. "Chicago! Nationals! Any chance you'll be in the audience to cheer us on?" he asked.

Blaine smiled at the invitation. "Wouldn't miss it," he assured Kurt eagerly. "Might bring along a few Warblers, if I can win them over," he shrugged.

"Tell them you made peace, and we invited you," suggested Dave. "That'll do the trick!"

Blaine beamed at them both. "You guys are the best. See you there," he nodded, before heading off. The boys headed inside to head up on stage for the results.

"Think we'll win?" asked Dave.

"It'd be a nice finish to the evening," smiled Kurt, "but honestly? It's been an awesome night so far. I think I could live without it."

"It would be nice, though, huh?" insisted Dave.

"Well, _duh!_" agreed Kurt as they reached the stage, Dave's arm wrapped around Kurt's waist. They separated into the two groups of king and queen candidates, Dave looking even more incongruous among the queens than Santana did among the kings. Kurt couldn't help but grin at the peculiarity of it all.

"Your _girlfriend's_ wearing my outfit," snarked Santana as Kurt took his place next to her.

"And he wears it just as well as you, Satan," smiled Kurt, earning him a chuckle from Santana. Figgins appealed for quiet, and the ceremony began with the announcement of the king.

"Your senior prom king for 2012 is..." announced Figgins, his eyebrows bouncing upward at the name on the card. He took a breath, as if in indignation. "Santana Lopez!" he continued.

Kurt couldn't help but be a little deflated; he'd eventually enjoyed being prom queen last year in Blaine's arms, and would have loved to share the moment again with Dave. Santana was thrilled, and accepted her sceptre and crown with relish. "Hail to the king, baby!" she hollered excitedly, thrusting her sceptre into the air in jubilation. Kurt looked over to Dave, who smiled and shrugged in commiseration. They both knew it'd be a long shot for them to become prom royalty once again.

Santana took her throne and Figgins announced the queen.

"And your senior prom queen for 2012..."

Figgins' jaw dropped at the name on the card. _Those two again?_ He gritted his teeth, braced himself for the inevitable response and read out the name.

"Brittany Pierce!" As he'd imagined, the whole place erupted into cheering, whoops and hollers. Brittany glided over in her devil-red gown, carrying off Liz Hurley's look from Bedazzled almost effortlessly. Dave and Kurt applauded enthusiastically: once again, the prom king and queen were of the same gender.

Unlike last year, however, the prom royals began eagerly making out in front of the entire school, to a chorus of wildly approving whoops and hollers from the assembled students. Figgins, of course, was aghast; he'd never been comfortable with public displays of affection in general, particularly so with such things between two girls. It seemed so... _unseemly_.

Needless to say, Brittana didn't give a crap. They separated in their own time, Figgins be damned. The mildly shellshocked principal then announced the king and queen's dance, and the music began.

Dave's suspicions were immediately raised when Tina, Rachel, Quinn and Mercedes began to perform _You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman_. That couldn't have been a coincidence. Could it? _Wait, did they rig this?_

Kurt, too, found himself wondering if it was all just a little choreographed. "Is this a set-up?" he asked Dave as they slow-danced together.

"I have no idea," replied Dave honestly. "Has all the trappings, though. I guess we'll find out once the girls are off-stage."

Sure enough, once the dance had ended, and Finn, Puck, Artie and Mike took to the stage to end on something suitably energetic and thrilling, Dave and Kurt zoomed right in on the girls. "Spill!" challenged Kurt.

Rachel grinned and bowed her head as though to confirm their theory. "You totally rigged this!" accused Dave, albeit with a grin.

"Not totally," defended Quinn. "There was a kernel of truth to the vote."

"Santana was voted king fair and square," smiled Rachel. "The prom _queen_, however..."

"Suffice to say, you would have looked odd up there, both wearing white suits," elaborated Quinn.

Kurt was flabbergasted. "Dave won the vote?!" he gasped.

Rachel nodded. "Brittany was a pretty close second," she shrugged, "so we figured... what the hell."

"Besides, you and Tana?" suggested Quinn. "_So_ last year." Dave chortled at the notion that they'd been there and done that, and _never go back_. "And anyway," continued Quinn with a wicked grin, "I think we gave the crowd what they wanted."

"Oh, let 'em have it," beamed Kurt, thrilled for Dave. "Dave actually _won_."

It took Dave that long for the fact to sink in. He'd won the vote. He'd actually been voted prom royalty by the student body. They'd _chosen_ this for him.

And this time, he could go home and bask in the glory after breaking the news to his parents.

"Best prom _ever_," he sighed blissfully.

"Yeah, who needs an ill-fitting crown and a glitter-covered stick, huh?" smiled Kurt.

"Screw that, I get to brag about it to my _folks_ this time!" grinned Dave.

Rachel gasped at the realization. "Of course, you were in the closet last year!" she exclaimed. "Oh my god, you couldn't even dance with him then. That must have been awful," she sympathized.

Dave shrugged merrily. "Past history," he beamed. "All worth it for what I've got now. And Kurt and I have New York to look forward to yet!"

Kurt almost instinctively slapped Dave on the arm. "Dave, don't jinx it!" he squeaked, prompting a belly laugh from Dave. The future looked as bright as ever, and it looked like nothing could mess things up.

_However,_ he thought as an idea occurred to him, _a little extra help can't hurt..._

* * *

><p>The New Directions had stopped at a roadside cafe, all of them buzzing with excitement. The road trip to Nationals had all but become an impromptu gig, a swell of harmonies and sporadic beatboxing filling the coach for the majority of the journey.<p>

Dave, in particular, seemed more excited than usual, and Santana could tell it wasn't just raw enthusiasm. She'd noticed him trading glances with Finn, and was determined to get to the bottom of whatever they were keeping to themselves. "Okay, Knuckles, what gives?" she demanded, having plonked herself down into a seat at his table.

Dave couldn't help but look over to Finn and grin. Finn grinned back, somewhat mischievously. "Oh my god," snarked Santana. "Tell me you didn't turn Finn. Because, _ew_."

Dave chuckled. "No, of course I didn't turn Finn," he grinned. "Nah, this is something I came up with and brought him in on. Kind of a way to give Kurt and Rachel one last push toward NYADA, y'know?"

Santana was baffled. "O... kay," she drawled uncertainly. "What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"We've sent Carmen Thibideaux a ticket to Nationals," explained Dave excitedly, but careful to stay out of earshot of both Rachel and Kurt, who was currently sitting at Rachel's table as they both got excited about the planned performance of Let The River Run.

Santana had to fight the urge to facepalm. "Jesus, Dave, what the hell are you thinking?" she hissed.

Dave was taken aback by Santana's _exact opposite_ of enthusiasm. "I... wait, I did this _for them_," he challenged defensively.

"You've done it _to_ them, dumbass!" retorted Santana. "If they find out about this, they'll freak."

Dave suddenly found himself on the back foot. "No!" he insisted, albeit uncertainly. "They'll be okay with this, they..." His pang of doubt bloomed, and he changed tack. "Look, it's not like they'll even know she's there anyway," he argued. "And I can tell them afterwards, it'll... it'll be fine," he concluded timidly, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself more than Santana.

"Tell who?" asked Kurt, only catching the tail end of the conversation. Dave's eyes flew wide open in alarm.

"Oh, crap," groaned Santana, leaning back in her chair with her eyes squeezed shut, awaiting the explosion.

"Dave, what's going on?" urged Kurt, suddenly wary of bad news from Santana's reaction. "Who's _them_ that you were going to tell, and what was it?"

Santana sighed in resignation. "You can't _not_ tell him now," she grunted in annoyance. "Go on, get it over with."

"Dave?" pleaded Kurt, his concern escalating.

Dave gulped, struggling to steady his nerves. "Look, I... I need you to understand," he implored desperately. "This came from a place of caring, okay? For you and Rachel," he explained.

Kurt's concern became intermingled with confusion. "Rachel? What does she have to do with this?" he pressed.

Dave continued, his nerves never letting up. "It was kinda supposed to be, like, one last big push to NYADA, y'know?" he elaborated timidly.

Kurt's concern ramped up at the mention of the school he was so desperate to get into. "Dave. _David,_" he urged, looking into Dave's eyes, trying to still the rising sense of panic within himself. "What have you done that involves NYADA?"

"I... invited someone to see us perform at Nationals," confessed Dave, his voice small and fretful of Kurt's reaction.

Kurt's panic heightened further still: his hands started trembling. "David," he begged. "_Please_ tell me you haven't invited _Carmen... Thibideaux..._ to _Nationals_." The name got Rachel's attention, and she flew to Kurt's side.

"Did you just mention Carmen's name?" she demanded urgently.

Kurt nodded. "I've got this awful feeling Dave's inv..." He swallowed as his throat dried up. "...invited her to... to watch us perform." Rachel clapped a hand over her mouth in alarm at the news. Kurt's focus returned to Dave. "Dave?" he pleaded, still hoping he'd misunderstood somehow.

Dave's head dropped in defeat. Kurt's eyes became saucer-wide in horror, and his breathing shallowed as he began to hyperventilate. Dave desperately tried to explain his motives. "I'm sorry, Kurt!" he begged. "I thought I was helping! I wanted her to see you guys in your element!"

"Oh god... oh _god,_" whimpered Rachel, her hand still over her mouth, veering toward hysteria. Kurt was trembling all over, and Dave rose to his feet to try to calm him.

Just in the nick of time, as Kurt fainted dead away. "Kurt!" cried Dave in horror, catching him as he slumped forward, holding him up, his arms wrapped around his slender frame. Rachel, meanwhile, was sliding into a far-from-minor meltdown. Finn hurried over to comfort her.

"Ca... Carmen's coming to... to..." she babbled semi-coherently.

"Don't be mad," urged Finn. "He thought he was helping."

Rachel looked up toward Finn and, seeing a total absence of surprise on his face, put two and two together. "You... oh god, you _knew_ about this?" she blurted in bewilderment.

Finn suddenly realized he, too, was in a heap of trouble. "It was supposed to be a good thing for you guys!" he argued. "It was meant to show you off at your best!"

Rachel only saw the potential catastrophe ahead. "Oh _god_, Finn," she wailed. "How could you... _ever_... think this was...?" Her panic reached a crescendo. "I... I _can't_ perform in front of her!" she babbled, gripped by her own fears. "I... oh god, I _can't_..." she wailed. Finn pulled her into himself protectively, her now-incoherent rambling muffled against him.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," apologized Finn miserably. "I only wanted to do the right thing by you and Kurt."

Will chose that moment to emerge from the rest rooms, and was confronted by the sight of Rachel in a state of hysteria and Kurt... _passed out?_ "What the hell just happened?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

Santana spoke up. "Dave's invited Carmen 'The Nightmare' Thibideaux to Nationals to see Kurt and Rachel performing. They found out and lost their shit," she sighed with a resigned shrug.

"Mr Schue, I swear to god, I was only trying to help," pleaded Dave desolately, now sitting down, cradling Kurt's limp form.

"Dude, this isn't on you," volunteered Puck supportively. "They overreact and freak out, it's what they do."

"That doesn't help, Puck!" barked Dave. "Rachel's having a full-on panic attack and Kurt's fainted, and it's all because I interfered." He raised his free hand to his face, the scale of the unfolding drama dawning on him. "What the fuck have I done?" he whispered brokenly to nobody in particular, largely because he already knew.

Well-intentioned or not, he'd potentially put New Directions' most important performance of their existence in jeopardy.

And from where he sat, he could see no way to undo it.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know I said this would be the final chapter, but inspiration struck (after taking its sweet damn time about it, GRR WRITER'S BLOCK) and I realized this was getting to be a stupidly long chapter as well. So, this is - and I'm pretty sure this time - the penultimate chapter._

_But what does this revelation mean for Kurtofsky and Finchel, the four main powerhouses of New Directions? And will Carmen show at Nationals? All will be revealed... (and hopefully not months from now. Did I mention how sorry I was about that? *cringe*)_

_- Liam_


	18. Boy, You Ought To Leave This Town

_**Story**: Perfect Symmetry  
><strong>Chapter<strong>: Boy, You Ought To Leave This Town  
><strong>Author<strong>: Liam the lemming  
><strong>Beta<strong>: captainlove (thanks for seeing this through to the end with me, dude!)  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M (for lewd language)  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Expletives  
><strong>Word count<strong>: 9,234  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or anything related to it.  
><strong>Chapter summary<strong>: One way or another, Kurt and Dave's schooldays are coming to an end - and they have to cope with saying goodbye to all of their friends, as well as the town and school they feel they've conquered together._

_A/N: Wow, it's finally over. Feels like I've been writing this forever. I think I'm gonna miss it.  
>However, on with the story. Do Kurt and Rachel get into NYADA? What's gonna happen to Finchel? And how the hell would Rachel and Kurt afford to live in New York anyway, without Glee's ridiculous writing to pay their way? Read on... :)<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Boy, You Ought To Leave This Town<strong>

Will was miserable. Before he'd left Lima with New Directions, everything had seemed so hopeful. So promising. As if everything they'd done over the past three years had led them to this point, and would carry them forward to victory.

Now it all seemed to lay in ruins. Thanks to Dave and Finn's harebrained notion to invite someone to Nationals that scared the hell out of Kurt and Rachel, and the inevitable knock-on effect on the two divas, the two boys themselves and the rest of the club, everything was in a state of utter upheaval.

Kurt was clearly trying to forgive Dave, understanding in his calmer moments that he'd done what he'd done as an act of support, but once his panic flared up he could barely be in the same room as him.

Likewise, Rachel understood that Finn _thought_ he was helping, but it was such a calamitous misstep in Rachel's eyes that she, too, could barely look him in the eye - and had even begun to doubt if they had a future together.

Consequently, Dave and Finn were in low spirits, and the other club members had either taken Kurt and Rachel's side or Dave and Finn's. And now they'd been hit with another bombshell: _Vintage._

One of their performances had to be "vintage". And what the hell was that supposed to mean?

Finn was taking a much-needed break from the general atmosphere of uncertainty and jangled nerves, and happened to notice Will making his way up the corridor deep in thought over this latest twist. "Mr Schue?" asked Finn, eager to engage Will in conversation for the sake of a distraction from the situation.

"Finn," nodded Will, still struggling with the concept of 'vintage'. "Looks like we've got something new to contend with," he sighed.

"Why, what's happened?" asked Finn.

"_Vintage_ has happened," sighed Will. "According to the rules, one of our performances has to be _vintage_. God knows what that's supposed to mean."

Finn pondered the term for a moment. "You're right," he nodded before too long. "That could be anything."

"As if we didn't have enough on our plate already," grunted Will. "How are the guys?"

"Worried," shrugged Finn. "Kurt and Dave are two of our strongest performers. Seeing them at odds like this isn't doing much for our morale."

"Maybe they need a distraction," suggested Will.

"How about we kill two birds with one stone?" recommended Finn. "We get everyone together and have a brainstorming session about the whole 'vintage' thing. Could bring us all together again, help us think like a group."

Will's mood brightened at Finn's idea. "That's a great idea, Finn," he smiled. "Get the guys together. I'll round up the girls." Finn nodded and headed off to talk to the boys. Will headed toward the girls, hoping they both had at least some measure of success in refocusing everyone's attention on the end goal of Nationals victory.

He couldn't let it all slip through their fingers after coming this far.

* * *

><p>"What the hell kind of theme is <em>that<em>?" blurted Mercedes. The whole of New Directions were sat together in a vacant conference room at the hotel, wrestling with the unforeseen special rule.

"That's the point," shrugged Finn. "We need to figure it out. That's why we've pulled you all together like this - we need a brainstorming session."

"Yeah, but _vintage_?" spluttered Santana. "That's garbage! It doesn't mean a thing!"

Brittany interjected as only she could. "Does it mean we have to perform totally wasted on wine? Cos I remember we tried something like that once, and I accidentally hurled in Rachel's face." The group tried to stifle their giggles to no avail. Rachel cringed at the memory of her impromptu Brittany-puke facial.

"The less said about _that_, the better, I think," winced Will amiably. "C'mon, lets see if we can't narrow this down a little. Vintage, as it pertains to _music_."

"What, like opera?" asked Tina.

"I was thinking more kinda Edith Piaf," volunteered Kurt. "I could probably pull that off."

"And we're just supposed to stand and watch while you belt out _Je Ne Regrette Rien_?" argued Rachel.

"No, but... no, that's not what I mean!" bickered Kurt irritably.

"What if they mean like _really_ vintage? Like, I dunno, Greensleeves or something?" asked Quinn.

A horrifying thought occurred to Puck. "Oh crap, are we gonna have to go all... _choral_ for this?" he groaned miserably.

It was fair to say the brainstorming wasn't going well.

"I don't think they're talking about that far back," proposed Mike. "What would vintage mean in a more modern context?"

"Well, when my dad talks about vintage _rock_ he's talking like 60s or 70s," interjected Dave.

"Oh man, that's right in my wheelhouse," grinned Mike.

"No kidding," nodded Finn. "Remember the mashup we did for Counterpoint week?"

"Guys, I think I've got an idea," nodded Puck, grabbing his guitar and leading into a track by The Kinks. Most of the group recognized it instantly. Artie jumped in with the first verse.

"_Girl, I want to be with you all of the time,_" he sung.

Incorrectly, as it turned out. "Dude, those aren't even the words," rebuked Puck.

"Puck, that was totally The Kinks," challenged Artie.

"Yeah, but I dunno what _you_ were singing," refuted Puck.

"The Kinks!" insisted Artie. "All Day And All Of The Night."

"What? Dude, you're way off," insisted Puck. "It was You Really Got Me."

A thought surfaced, unbidden, to Dave's mind. "Hang on, if it's that easy to _confuse_ the two..." A grin began to spread across his face.

"Holy crap!" blurted Santana, suddenly seeing Dave's point. "Mashup!" she cried, in unison with Quinn and Mercedes, the three of them beaming in excitement.

"Whoa, hang on a second!" barked Kurt. "I don't know if any of you noticed, but this is freakin' _Nationals_. We can't just pull a mashup out of our asses and expect it to just do."

"Just do? Kurt, are you high?" challenged Finn. "Look around you."

Kurt couldn't see Finn's point among the huge gray cloud of uncertainty.

Finn sighed in frustration. "Okay, I'll spell it out," he continued. "We smashed Sectionals and Regionals. Most of us are finalists from last year. No offense, Dave," he conceded with the classic Finn grin, to an understanding nod and smile from Dave. "Two of us have auditioned for NYADA. And think about how we did in Counterpoint week. We pulled off _three mashups_ in seven days, and that wasn't even all of us working together. We can sail through just one as a team. C'mon, we've already got the start of an idea right here. We just need to put some meat on those bones and work out a dance routine. Guys, we can _smash_ this!" he insisted eagerly, grinning like a maniac, a fierce exuberance burning in his eyes and animating his body language like sugar.

"He's got a point, actually," nodded Will. "I think we've - okay, _most_ of us - have lost sight of how amazing you guys really are. Forget about all the stress outside of the performance. Just remember the performance itself. How good it feels. How easy it comes to you. How natural it is. Guys," he concluded, grinning proudly, "how can you _not_ pull this off?"

"He's right," nodded Mercedes, the enthusiasm spreading steadily across the group. "We're actually a pretty awesome bunch. Hell, Finn's right, we _nailed_ Sectionals. And Regionals!"

Even Kurt and Rachel's moods began to turn, and the nervous buzz in their stomachs began to feel more like excitement than fear. "You're right, we're... we're _great_," nodded Kurt slowly. "How the hell did I ever forget that?"

"I, uh, tried too hard to inspire you," shrugged Dave abashedly. "Sorry babe."

Kurt almost began to succumb to his Carmen-inspired dread, but forced himself to focus on how they easily had what it took to get to this point, and honestly _could_ walk away with a victory. He regarded Dave affectionately. "It's okay, babe," he assured him. "I get that you were trying to help. I'm sorry I flipped out," he admitted sheepishly.

Dave wrapped Kurt up in his arms, most of the girls squeeing over them putting their issues behind them. "It's cool, sweetheart," smiled Dave. The two boys kissed. Deeply.

The kissing took no time to escalate to something more akin to _passionately._ "Guys, get a room," laughed Artie.

Kurt broke the kiss to address the teasing. "Uh... we kinda already do," he noted playfully with a knowing smirk. Dave couldn't help but giggle.

The boys groaned in resigned formation at the implied request. "Half an hour, guys?" suggested Mike.

"Mr Schue," addressed Dave, "I guess it has to be your call."

Will regarded the two young men. The teacher in him was strongly against any funny business, but the romantic in him knew Kurt and Dave were in it for the long haul. If it'd been him and Emma, after all... "Okay, half an hour - as long as the guys are okay with it," he demanded, albeit with a smile.

"Guys?" asked Kurt, trying not to sound desperate.

The boys all chuckled. "Just don't use up all the towels or leave condoms scattered everywhere!" teased Puck. Dave blushed vividly at the notion.

Kurt retaliated in kind. "Please, we have a little more class than that!" he sassed. He regarded Puck in particular. "We're not _you_, after all, _Puck_," he drawled scathingly, if lightheartedly. A chorus of whoops and laughter rang out in response as Kurt and Dave headed off to the boys' hotel room.

"Puck, you just got _served_," cackled Mercedes. Finn, meanwhile, had been paying attention to Rachel, and could see she needed more convincing. He gathered the girls together.

"Girls, I've got a favor to ask too," he explained.

* * *

><p>And so it was that Finn and Rachel sat alone in the girls' quarters while the others continued to brainstorm the vintage mashup.<p>

"You're still kinda freaking out under the surface, aren't you?" sighed Finn sadly.

"It's just... god, Finn," groaned Rachel. "If we don't win this, and Carmen's watching, it could ruin my one shot at NYADA."

"Rachel, that's crazy," insisted Finn. "Carmen won't care about the result, she'll be all about the performance. Besides, the victory will be on _all_ of us. If we _somehow_ don't win," he grinned playfully, "it won't be because of you."

Rachel considered Finn's point. It helped, a little. "I suppose you have a point," she nodded.

"And I totally promise not to kiss you during the performance," chuckled Finn, recalling the calamitous misstep a year earlier. Rachel couldn't help but giggle briefly at the memory.

"Honestly, you have nothing to fear, Rach," continued Finn. "You knocked your audition out of the park, and Nationals is just one more chance for you to shine. That's the only thing you could ever do, babe," he reminded her soothingly. "You _always_ shine."

Slowly but surely, Finn was winning her over. He could see her change of mood, and knew the time was perfect for the one last thing to clear her mind of doubt; he walked over to the iPod dock they'd brought for practice, plugged in his iPod, cued up the song he'd planned to serenade her with at some point and started it playing.

Rachel recognized the intro, and gasped at the recognition. She couldn't help but smile as Finn opened the song.

_Look at this face, I know the years are showing  
>Look at this life, I still don't know where it's going<br>I don't know much  
>But I know I love you<br>And that may be all I need to know._

Rachel took the second verse, enchanted by Finn's serenading. Nothing brought them together like a really good duet.

And this one felt made for them.

_Look at these eyes, they never see what matters  
>Look at these dreams, so beaten and so battered<em>

The two harmonized together for the chorus.

_I don't know much  
>But I know I love you<br>And that may be all I need to know_

Finn took to the bridge with gusto.

_So many questions still left unanswered  
>So much I've never broken through<em>

Rachel wove her fingers between Finn's as she took the lead, her eyes sparkling with joy.

_And when I feel you near me, sometimes I see so clearly_

Finn grinned expansively as they harmonized once again.

_The only truth I'll ever know is me and you._

Finn took the lead once again, never losing eye contact with Rachel.

_Look at this man, so blessed with inspiration  
>Look at this soul, still searching for salvation<em>

The two joined together once again to finish the song.

_I don't know much, but I know I love you  
>And that may be all I need to know<br>I don't know much, but I know I love you  
>And that may be all I need to know<br>I don't know much, but I know I love you  
>And that may be all there is... to know.<em>

Rachel's concerns had, as Finn had predicted, dissolved away in the performance. The one downside was that it brought her overconfidence roaring to the foreground. "God, of _course_ I'm good enough," she proclaimed. "How could I ever think I wasn't? What the hell possessed me?"

Finn knew exactly how to bring her back down to earth. "I dunno. Maybe you're stupider than me?" he grinned.

Rachel smiled at Finn's grin, before his point hit home. "...Hey!" she yelped.

Finn chuckled at her reaction. "Just reining you in from cloud nine in case you leave the atmosphere entirely. Defying gravity's one thing, but lets not make it into deep space just yet, huh?" he smiled.

Rachel puzzled over his suggestion. "...Just yet?" she queried.

"Well, that's where the stars belong - and you _will_ be a star one day, right?" shrugged Finn, as if it wasn't even a question. It was exactly the right thing to say, and Rachel gasped in delight at the notion, as well as the obvious support of her darling Finn. The two of them fell into a huge hug.

The hug, inevitably, turned into something more heated. After a minute or so of practically devouring each other, Rachel broke contact. "They gave us half an hour, too, right?" she asked hungrily, glancing over to her bed.

Finn's eyes lit up as he pulled her closer.

* * *

><p>"Our boyfriends are really dumb sometimes."<p>

"Oh, shut up, you _know_ they're both worth it."

Kurt and Rachel sat together in a nearby coffee bar, gossiping about their respective boyfriends. Following the two couples' respective dalliances, they'd been dragged into rehearsals by the rest of the group, well and truly putting their doubts and fears to rest. Somehow, in just one afternoon, it had all fallen together perfectly.

The Kinks mashup had become a vintage medley - they blended _You Really Got Me_ with _All Day And All Of The Night_, transitioned it into a chorus of the Beatles' _Love Me Do_ but maintaining the 4:4 signature, stripping it right back with hand claps and a capella harmonies before bringing in the instruments, then segued into _Twist And Shout_ with more lively dance moves before bringing it back to the Kinks mashup of the beginning.

Everyone agreed that the medley, alongside _Let The River Run_ and the wild abandon of Ke$ha's _Animal_, gave them a genuine winners' set. Kurt and Rachel found themselves even hoping Carmen would show up just to see it all.

"I never said they weren't _worth_ it," grinned Kurt. "But dumb. Really, really dumb."

"Dave's a total brainbox!" disputed Rachel. "If he's dumb, we must be single-celled organisms!"

Kurt giggled at Rachel's enthusiastic praise. "Yeah, but he _really_ didn't think the whole Carmen thing through," he smiled.

"Which is why I'm actually looking forward to it right now?" countered Rachel.

"It could have so easily gone south," insisted Kurt. "I think they got lucky."

"No, I think they knew us better than we know ourselves," maintained Rachel. "They somehow knew we'd get all caught up in the excitement of the rehearsal and it'd carry us through any nerves or worries we had."

Kurt had no answer for that. Rachel was, in fairness, dead on: that's exactly what had happened. Eventually, at least.

"Y'know, it's weird how I actually _want_ Carmen to be there now," beamed Rachel enthusiastically. "I want to show her exactly what I'm capable of, and that setlist can easily do it."

Kurt chuckled under his breath. Her enthusiasm was infectious. "I guess we should look upon this more as an opportunity than a... well, the _crisis_ we both turned it into," he giggled. "Good job we had Finn there to be our counterbalance."

"And Dave to come up with ideas like this in the first place," smiled Rachel. "Like I said - both worth it."

Kurt had to agree. Despite the unnecessary stress of the past day or two, it _was_ worth it all. "So what's Finn going to do when he moves to New York?" he asked. He paused suddenly. "Uh... is there even a plan there?"

Rachel looked pensive briefly, but put the question form her mind. "I'm trying not to think about it too much for now," she sighed. "I just want to get through Nationals first."

Kurt's face fell slightly; he saw drama on the horizon. Drama, tears, the whole shebang. _Oh, Rachel, I love you dearly, but this is a slow motion car crash and you're not even trying to get out of the passenger seat._

He vowed to be there for her regardless. She'd do the same for him.

Meanwhile, Dave and Finn were talking things over about Kurt and Rachel, and their near miss. "Dude, you totally pulled my ass out of the fire," smiled Dave gratefully.

"Nah," grinned Finn. "They'd have come around once rehearsals started, for sure! They always get caught up in the performance."

"If you say so, dude. I still feel like I dodged a bullet. Rachel's lucky to have you around."

Finn looked thoughtful. "I dunno, man," he shrugged. "I'm starting to think I can only help so much. Y'know what I think of when I think of New York?"

Dave couldn't help but tease his friend. "Apples?" he grinned.

Finn threw Dave a deadpan stare. "You know I'm strong enough to kick your ass these days, right?" he huffed.

"And _you_ know I'm just teasing you," grinned Dave. He considered Finn's question briefly. "So when you think of New York, you think of...?" he prompted.

"Where I fit in," explained Finn. "Or, more accurately, _if_," he sighed.

"Dude, it's gonna be the four of us," smiled Dave reassuringly. "We'll all fit in together."

"Oh, I'm sure you guys will," nodded Finn with certainty. "You have NYU, Kurt and Rachel will both have NYADA," he continued. His dopey grin reasserted itself. "They totally will, y'know," he nodded.

"Fuck yeah, that's not even a thing," beamed Dave, proud for them both. He paused, Finn's point beginning to dawn on him. "Wait, are you... dude, are you saying you don't belong there? _At all?_" he gasped, shocked at the sudden notion that Finn could ever not be following them. The foursome had become such a close knit group since the day he'd moved in with the Berrys that the notion of Finn suddenly not being around genuinely alarmed him. Finn felt like a brother to him.

And not remotely in the same way as Kurt had considered Dave a brother, because. Jesus, _seriously_, just no.

Finn looked a little pensive. "I dunno, man," he sighed finally. "How can I be there just for Rachel? I'd be a total dead weight. I'd end up doing something menial and lame that meant nothing. I want my life to mean more than that," he explained. "I wanna look back and say 'yeah, I actually achieved something, I made a difference'."

Dave's jaw had drooped a little as he began to understand Finn's outlook. He nodded, just slightly. "I get that," he agreed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. "But... but what's in Lima?"

"The tire shop, at least," shrugged Finn. "Y'know, at least I'd be keeping up the family business."

"That's making a difference?" queried Dave skeptically.

"More than being a Starbucks barista or something just as pointless," insisted Finn.

Dave had no response. In a strange way, Finn's argument made sense; his life in New York would be just Rachel, and that wasn't any kind of life at all. What would he do during the day? How would he contribute to the bills? How could he make something of himself?

"Have you considered maybe taking up an apprenticeship or internship or something?" asked Dave, knowing he was clutching at straws but not yet willing to give up entirely, for himself and Kurt as much as Rachel.

"See, there's the thing," countered Finn, his determination strengthening. "I'd have to fight to get an internship or apprenticeship there. In Lima, I'd already have a _job_, I'd be getting actual mechanic experience and being _paid_ for it."

It was a powerful argument, and one Dave knew deep down he couldn't beat. His face fell as he nodded in capitulation; Finn had all but chosen the Lima life. Not by any means a Lima _Loser_ life, but still. Lima.

Far from Rachel. Far from them all.

He didn't want to be around when Finn tried to explain that one to Rachel.

* * *

><p>The competition certainly looked fierce, and Vocal Adrenaline's leading lady certainly had pipes to match the girls. Which came as a huge shock when they discovered it was a <em>guy<em>.

"Wade Adams, apparently," nodded Kurt. "Identifies as a woman, calls himself _Unique_, and I think I'm a little jealous of his inner steel," he admitted with a slight chuckle. "That kid's got more fierce in his feather boa than I had in my wildest sartorial excesses."

"Wow," grinned Dave. "Sounds like someone I'd like to meet."

"Oh, he's a sweetheart," assured Kurt. "I hope we all get to meet him. Maybe we can convince him about McKinley's anti-bullying regime and he'll feel safe enough for us to poach him for New Directions next year," he giggled.

"Hell yeah," nodded Mercedes. "Bring it. With so much talent flowing _out_, we're gonna need some fresh blood to keep up the standard."

"We're up soon, aren't we?" gulped Tina.

"And we'll be _fine_," insisted Finn. "Just remember that we kick ass, we practically _sailed_ our way here, and this is _our time_."

Will beamed proudly at Finn. He knew exactly how to hold the group together, dispel their nerves and inspire their confidence. Will could almost imagine him leading them to a Nationals competition himself someday.

The group did their usual pre-show routine...

_"AaaaaaaaMAZING!"_

...and headed out to the stage to blow the crowd away.

_We're coming to the edge, running on the water  
><em>_Coming through the fog, your sons and daughters_

"Oh my god. Oh my _god_ that was amazing."

"Told you, didn't I?" replied Finn to an almost-unbelieving Rachel as they all gathered backstage for a post-performance wind-down. "We kick all kinds of ass."

"From all over the country," giggled Quinn. "Who rocks?"

"We rock!" cried the group in unison.

It was safe to say that confidence was high.

_I believe that you and me last forever  
>Oh yeah, all day and nighttime yours, leave me never<em>

"I take it _all_ back," beamed Kurt. "You're some kind of supergenius."

"Well, y'know," shrugged Dave in an affectation of bashfulness. "I don't like to brag about my enormous IQ, right?"

Kurt couldn't help but burst into giggles. "You are _such_ a dork sometimes," he retorted in staccato through the giggling.

"And you _luuurve_ me for it," teased Dave, grinning from ear to ear.

Kurt's giggling eased off. "Always," he smiled. Finn smiled from a distance at the two boys. He had a feeling things would turn out okay.

Blaine, however, had a feeling they might not. "Finn?" he asked, sticking his head in the door.

"Blaine?" hissed Finn, briefly struggling to remember Kurt and Dave's assurance that he was no longer the bad guy. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's about Carmen," replied Blaine. "I think we should head her off - I'm not sure she was won over."

Finn's face fell at the suggestion. "Oh crap," he groaned. "C'mon, lets go." He sneaked out and followed Blaine, only to see he had Nick, Jeff and Trent in tow.

Dalton's own gleesome threesome. _Well, if anyone can talk her round,_ mused Finn as they made their way out to intercept Carmen.

_This is our last chance  
>Give me your hands<br>'Cause our world is spinning at the speed of light_

"Ms Thibidaux!" cried Finn, seeing Carmen heading away. The plan had worked, after all. She _had_ turned up and seen Kurt and Rachel perform.

But if Blaine was right, it had only worked to a degree, rather than the slam dunk he and Dave had hoped for.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" she asked, a little brusquely.

"Finn Hudson, ma'am," he introduced himself. "I was there for Rachel Berry when she and Kurt Hummel auditioned for you."

"Of course," she nodded. "The tall one." Finn chuckled self-effacingly at the description.

He introduced the boys from Dalton. "Also, Blaine Anderson, Trent Nixon, Nick Duval and Jeff Sterling - from the Dalton Warblers. Our closest competitors at Regionals."

"Nice to meet you," grunted Carmen in the same impatient tone she'd used after Rachel's initial false start at her audition. "Can I ask what this is about?"

"It's about Kurt Hummel," explained Blaine. "We get the impression you haven't entirely been won over by him, and we wanted to make sure it was just our imagination."

Carmen paused, a mild look of - was that _frustration?_ - clouding her expression. "Ah, yes," she grumbled. "_Kurt._"

"We're not imagining it, are we?" gulped Trent. "Where has he gone wrong? I thought he had plenty of talent."

Carmen's frustration seemed to grow with Trent's use of the word 'talent'. "Oh, he does," she seethed. "The boy has vast swathes of talent that could put some NYADA students to shame. It's what he _does_ with it that bothers me."

"What he... wait, what?" spluttered Finn, utterly baffled. If he had the talent, then... no, this wasn't making sense to him any time soon.

Carmen elaborated. "I'd have to be some kind of a halfwit to deny the boy's talent. That's not where he comes up short," she snapped. "I needed passion. Soul. Real _feeling _among all the sound and vision. All I got from him was the voice and the moves."

Blaine could barely believe his ears. "Are you serious?" he gasped. "Ma'am, we could _bury_ you under proof. Seriously. We could show you footage that demonstrates how well he throws his heart and soul into his performances if you need convincing."

"Blackbird, right?" guessed Nick.

"And his Don't Cry For Me Argentina was sublime," effused Jeff.

"You should have heard his version of I Wanna Hold Your Hand," added Finn. "The girls were all in tears."

Carmen paused to consider their obvious enthusiasm, particularly the references to what must have been past performances. "I'm certainly willing to be convinced. I'm surprised they weren't on his application, however," she challenged.

"They're not publicly visible," explained Finn. "A handful among both the Dalton Warblers and the New Directions took footage of Kurt for posterity, we just need to post them on YouTube so you can see them."

Carmen nodded, taking in their combined arguments. "I see. That makes sense, I suppose," she agreed. "Get in touch once they're available. My email address is on here," she volunteered, handing Finn a business card.

Blaine fought the urge to punch the air. Finn, too, was overjoyed. "You won't regret this, ma'am!" he beamed. "You want a demonstration of Kurt's soul? You'll have it."

Carmen regarded the delighted troupe with mild amusement, and a little admiration for the support they were giving Kurt. "I really hope I do. Like I said... the boy's got talent," she asserted, with a slight smile, before heading off.

Nick and Jeff shared an elated fist bump as Trent let out the breath he'd been holding in. Blaine once again resisted the urge to respond, as he couldn't see Finn reacting well to a sudden celebratory hug, even a bro-hug. In any case, his resistance was rendered moot.

Finn suddenly wrapped him up in a hug himself. One of manly camaraderie, but a hug nonetheless. "Dude, you just saved Kurt," he declared, his amazement over the whole situation dawning on him suddenly.

Blaine reciprocated the hug. "It was the least I could do after... well, everything," he confessed. "We'd better go tell Kurt about this."

"No," replied Finn. "This can be a surprise for him."

Blaine pulled out of the hug. "No, Finn, we can't do it this way," he insisted. "We need his permission to put those clips on YouTube. Last time I put stuff up online about someone... well, you remember how badly _that_ went," he sighed dejectedly, recalling his role in Dave's outing and the immediate consequences.

Finn considered Blaine's reaction, and found himself surprised by how contrite he seemed. _He really does feel bad about what he did. I guess Kurt and Dave were right._ "Okay, Blaine," he nodded. "Lets all go tell him. Together."

"He's gonna be thrilled, I know it," grinned Trent.

Finn refused to count his chickens. "Lets hope so," he shrugged.

_It's asking for the taking  
>Trembling, shaking<br>Oh, my heart is aching_

"Holy shit. I can't believe I missed that." Kurt was dumbfounded by Carmen's revelation about his perceived lack of soul. He _hadn't_ demonstrated it to her, and he was kicking himself for not doing more to do so.

"That's why we wanna put together a YouTube channel of your best moments," explained Finn, reeling off the tracks they'd mentioned while debating Kurt's abilities with Carmen.

"You should add As If We Never Said Goodbye to the list," added Rachel. "I _cried_ over that, it was so powerful."

"Rachel, I'm surprised you didn't cry over my performance in Counterpoint week," retorted Kurt. "Seriously, with you it doesn't take much."

Artie decided to chime in with a confession, to add his perspective to the debate. "When you did As If We Never Said Goodbye, I, uh, kinda had a lump in my throat, I gotta admit," he winced bashfully.

"Wow, really?" gasped Finn.

"That goes no further than us," instructed Artie sternly, to chuckles and nods from everyone.

"Hey Kurt," added Finn, suddenly recalling a performance Burt had once mentioned. "Burt told me you did this really _angry_ performance to yourself once. Had the line 'everything's coming up Kurt' in it or something...?"

"Oh my god, Rose's Turn!" cried Kurt, recalling Finn's apparent usurping of the position of the Hummel household's favorite son. "I was! I was furious! I should totally... wait, no," he sighed in defeat. "There's definitely no footage of _that_."

"So reprise the performance on camera!" suggested Mike enthusiastically. "You could easily pull that off."

Kurt looked around for backup for Mike's suggestion, and saw most people nodding. It convinced him. "Okay, when we get back to McKinley, I'm doing it," he agreed. "She wants passion? Hell, that was it in _spades_."

"We'll get our footage to you guys," instructed Blaine. "We've got a few choice numbers that show him off beautifully."

Kurt smiled toward his recently-forgiven friend. "Thanks Blaine," he replied. "And thanks for heading off Carmen, too. If you hadn't collared Finn and rushed off to find her..." he gulped.

"Don't even go there, Kurt," chuckled Blaine. "The point is, we did." He smiled at Kurt. "I think you've got a fantastic shot at this," he enthused.

"Lets hope it's both of us," chimed in Rachel.

"Well, _duh!_" grinned Kurt.

_I am starstruck  
>With every part<br>Of this whole story_

The atmosphere was tense. Wade 'Unique' Adams had just been announced MVP, and the Portland Scaleblazers had been given third place. It was between Vocal Adrenaline and the New Directions - and one of Vocal Adrenaline's members had just been given an award.

It looked bad.

"The 2012 National Show Choir champions..."

_Crap. Second place. Oh god, was it me? Have I let them down?_ Dave was already writing the group's destiny in his mind.

_Dammit, Rachel or I could have really done with that MVP._ Kurt was rueing the missed opportunity for one last brag to add to his or Rachel's NYADA applications.

_MVP just means one person. It doesn't mean all of us. Our harmonies __**worked**__, for god's sake, they were __**spectacular**__._ Rachel refused to believe they were out of the running. If sheer force of will had been the deciding factor, Rachel would have had the trophy in Will's arms already.

As it turned out, they didn't need it.

"...From McKinley High in Lima, Ohio, the New Directions!"

_Let the river run  
>Let all the dreamers<br>Wake the nation_

Everything from Dave's perspective felt dreamlike from that moment on. When trying to recall it later, he'd swear it felt like a daydream had crashed into a fairytale and the collision had exploded into a combination of fireworks and rainbows. He'd known victories before - Regionals, Sectionals, football successes with the Titans, arguably his first date with Kurt - but this was cumulative. This was something he'd been working toward all year, as had everyone else.

The combined camaraderie and thrill of victory made the whole scene feel almost entirely fictional. Kurt flinging himself into his arms just added to the fantasy feel of it all.

And he was totally fine with that.

For a while, at least, everyone had the opportunity to just bask in the triumph and forget their troubles - the looming separation as they went their own ways to schools across the country or whatever opportunities opened up to them, Finn and Rachel's impending relationship crisis, the success or failure of Kurt and Rachel's NYADA applications. They all faded into the background... because they had _won_. And nobody could take it away from them.

They were champions.

_Come, the new Jerusalem._

* * *

><p>Their return to McKinley, too, had been beyond their wildest dreams - the school turning out to help them celebrate, finally recognizing their talent and efforts, gave them all a sense of vindication none of them had dared anticipate.<p>

The following week had been a whirlwind - Will winning the Teacher Of The Year award, the New Directions performing We Are The Champions at the ceremony to celebrate, and an unexpected piece of news that would set a lot of budding plans in motion.

"You're gonna become a senator?"

"No, Finn," chuckled Will at Finn's misinterpretation of the big news. "It's the Blue Ribbon Panel - their mission is to improve arts education across the nation, and that means better funding for glee clubs everywhere, not just here. They've invited me to join. I can't imagine a greater calling."

"Wow," gasped Finn. "That sounds like what you do here, but, like... all over the country. That'd be awesome."

"There's a problem, though," continued Will. "It'd leave New Directions without a helmsman." He looked at Finn and raised an eyebrow, nodding slightly.

And suddenly Finn knew.

"I can't lead glee club, Mr Schue!" he insisted. "I'm not even a teacher!"

"You don't have to be!" explained Will. "It's not an official teaching position - it's vocational. You can do it alongside whatever else you were planning on doing." He gave Finn a knowing look. "You were planning on staying here, weren't you?"

Finn gulped. "I... I was," he confessed. "I uh... I haven't told Rachel yet."

"This could help," suggested Will. "This would be a really strong reason to stay here - nurturing the next generation of New Directions kids." He paused. "Mind if I ask _why_ you're set on staying in Lima? If Rachel's NYADA application ends up being successful, she'll be off to New York. Why would you choose not to follow her?"

He listened intently as Finn explained the "no place for me in New York" situation, now bolstered by the fact that he wouldn't just fit in Lima, he'd be making a huge difference there. He had to admit, Finn made a strong case.

"You're a stronger man than I am, Finn," he sighed. "I'm dreading being apart from Emma."

"Oh, I never said it was gonna be easy," noted Finn. "I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but I know we'll keep busy enough to help us cope with being apart. And there's always the phone."

Will regarded the teen with pride. "I may have underestimated you, Finn," he smiled. He paused to consider the one remaining point he'd not yet raised with him - the manner in which he'd been drafted into New Directions to begin with.

_I can't give him this when he doesn't even know what I did to him._

"Finn, there's... there's something I need to tell you about how you ended up in glee club," he sighed, his concern growing that Finn may turn down the role once the truth was out.

Finn cast his mind back. "What, the... the drugs?" he stammered. "Mr Schue, that wasn't me, I swear it. I said so then, and I was telling the truth!"

"I know," nodded Will, looking worried.

"So why are you bri...? Wait, you know?" The news derailed Finn's determination to fight his corner.

"I'd heard you singing in the shower, and I couldn't let a voice like yours slip by without doing whatever I could to get you into glee club," confessed Will.

Finn suddenly put two and two together. It felt like he'd come up with _pi_. How could _that_ be the case? Mr Schue? It just wasn't his style. "You mean... you...?" he ventured.

"I planted the marijuana," admitted Will, barely able to make eye contact with Finn.

"Holy crap," gasped Finn. Will nodded despondently, still looking downward.

"That is _so cool_," guffawed Finn, amazed that Will could pull of such a thing. Will looked up at Finn, barely able to keep his mouth from falling open.

"I had no idea you were such a badass!" grinned Finn.

Will exhaled, the tension draining from him. "I wanna make it clear, that is _not_ a valid recruitment method!" he grinned.

"Don't worry, Mr Schue, no planting pot, I got it," nodded Finn. He paused briefly. "It's 2012, after all. Everyone uses cocaine these days, so I'll plant that instead."

He waited for Will's expression of horror to appear before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Will shook his head, unable to keep from chuckling himself. "C'mere," he grinned, reaching out to Finn. The two hugged, and it felt like the baton being passed from one to the other.

Finn would be New Directions' mentor next year.

All he had to do now was tell Rachel.

* * *

><p>He knew there'd be tears, of course.<p>

"You're leaving me."

"That's the one thing I'm _not_ doing," declared Finn.

"I'll be going to New York and you're staying here," rebuked Rachel. "What would you call it?"

"A long distance relationship," countered Finn resolutely.

"And you honestly think that's the best thing?" choked Rachel bitterly, already tearful. Finn expected this, of course: without tears and drama, it just wouldn't have been Rachel.

It was, strangely, one of the things he'd miss the most about her.

"I already told you why being in New York would do me more harm than good," replied Finn. "At best, it screws things up for me. At worst," he insisted, his voice clear and determined, "it screws things up for _you_."

Rachel found herself without a response for this. "For... me? How?" she demanded.

Finn saw his opportunity to drive home the point she couldn't argue with. "Being there with me? With your first love? It'd be too much," he explained. "It could even ruin things for you at NYADA, I'd be too much of a distraction. You have to focus right now. Really, seriously focus," he urged. "You can't do that with me bumbling around."

"But... but I _need_ you!" croaked Rachel desperately.

"I'll still be in Lima, baby," assured Finn soothingly. "I'm not going anywhere. And you'll have Kurt and Dave to keep you safe. And grounded," he added pointedly.

"So why does this feel like I'm hitting rock bottom?" she sobbed.

"Because you're not in New York yet," replied Finn. "Your dads are taking you next week to scope things out, right?"

Rachel nodded tearfully.

"Once you get there, your life's gonna turn into this huge thing," continued Finn. "You'll be able to manage better without me for longer. And I'll be safe here, with glee club and the tire shop to keep me out of trouble."

"You're determined to do this, aren't you?" gulped Rachel, the tears still falling.

"Someone's gotta take the reins," observed Finn. "Don't worry, I'll get them to Nationals again," he grinned.

The mention of a second successive Nationals win led by Finn caught Rachel's imagination, and she pictured Finn in Will's place holding the trophy, surrounded by the next generation of New Directions. It filled her with pride, and she found herself recapping Finn's encouragement and enthusiasm in Chicago. He _was_ the man for the job. He had to stay. He _should_ stay.

That didn't mean it wouldn't hurt like crazy to say goodbye.

* * *

><p>And it was definitely a goodbye.<p>

"I'm proud of you, son," beamed Burt. "I'm proud of both you kids. I knew you had it in you."

"Thanks, dad," sighed Kurt, positively glowing with the combined relief and excitement that his and Rachel's NYADA acceptances had supplied. "It's so good to know there'll at least be the three of us there."

"You're worried about Finn, aren't you?" noted Carole.

Kurt couldn't deny that. "Can you blame me?" he shrugged. "He'll be here, all on his own."

"And what are we, chopped liver?" smirked Burt. "Besides, we'll make sure he's kept busy here with the tire shop."

"He's gonna be great for glee club, y'know," smiled Kurt.

"All the way to Nationals," grinned Carole.

"I'd expect nothing less," chirped Kurt. Outwardly, he was putting on a brave face; inwardly, the acceptance letter had brought forth a point that he hadn't considered. A point that had been staring him in the face for weeks.

He wouldn't just be losing Finn. He'd be losing everyone but Dave and Rachel.

He'd be losing Lima. Why did that feel like such a bad thing when he'd always felt so determined to leave?

He decided to go to the one person he felt sure would understand: Dave. He, too, was pretty eager to get the hell out of his tiny little home town, and he felt he'd be able to help Kurt shake off these feelings. He made his excuses and headed over to see Dave.

To his surprise, he found Dave already had his hands full. Rachel had made her way over to bemoan her situation with Finn, and before long the three of them were reflecting on the prospect of leaving Lima behind.

"It makes no sense," groaned Kurt glumly. "I should be looking forward to cartwheeling out of this town forever, and instead it feels like I'm leaving everything behind. Why? It's Lima, for god's sake."

"We all made friends here, Kurt, despite all the slushies, the dumpster tosses, the mockery, the... the heartache," gulped Rachel. "I can't help but think of all the good times we had, all the things we accomplished... it's been an incredible year." She suddenly realized it probably _hadn't_ been a good year for Dave, given its beginning and all the drama since, and felt scandalized. "Oh god, Dave, I... I'm sorry, I forgot about..." She faltered. She still couldn't refer to Dave's ...to _that_ because she couldn't put it into words.

Dave's eyes rolled like dice on a craps table. "My _suicide attempt_. You can call it what it was, y'know," he smirked. "I'm not about to start fishing out razor blades."

Kurt was on it in a flash. "Rachel, you take the belt," he snarked, "I'll get his shoelaces." Rachel once again looked scandalized, but Dave let out a hearty laugh at Kurt making light of his past.

"Screw that," he retorted with a grin. "If I was gonna do it, I'd take your scarf and do it with a little _style_." Kurt couldn't help but giggle. Even Rachel mustered a cringing smile.

"Still kinda helps to hear you're not even thinking of it," noted Rachel. "I still worry, you know. Just a little."

"Well, you don't have to," smiled Dave reassuringly. "After the way things have turned out, and the future I'm looking at, I'd have to be out of my mind to be considering it. My life's never been this good, I don't _want_ it to end." He paused in reflection. "I guess that's why... why I'm trying not to think about leaving either," he admitted, his smile fading.

Kurt was blindsided. "You too?" he gasped. "After... _everything?!_"

"What, everything like winning at Sectionals, Regionals, then Nationals?" countered Dave. "Getting back on the team? Being the catalyst for the biggest anti-bullying initiative McKinley's ever seen? Ending up with my dream boyfriend?" Kurt blushed crimson at Dave's description of him as _his dream boyfriend_, but his heart pounded in his chest at the notion. He really couldn't hear enough of that. "And finding myself with better, truer friends now than I've ever had?"

Rachel and Kurt found themselves with no argument. "Oh," blurted Rachel eventually. "I... well, I guess I hadn't thought of it like that."

"Y'know, I honestly thought I'd be glad to see the back of Lima," continued Dave. "Backward little town, with its smalltown people and their smalltown attitudes. But... fuck," he gasped. "After the past year? All the friends I've made? The impact I've had? The victories we've shared, the triumphs?" To his surprise, he found himself getting choked up over the memories. "Fuck, I think I'm actually gonna _miss_ this place," he croaked, his eyes stinging.

Kurt, too, found himself becoming tearful. "I get you," he nodded. "I mean, I know everyone's moving on to bigger and better things - Mercedes and Shane moving out to LA, what with Shane's UCLA football scholarship and 'Cedes landing that backing vocal gig with the record label, Quinn being accepted into freakin' _Yale_, us moving on to New York, Mike landing a place at Joffrey in Chicago... god, even Finn's kinda made it, now he'll be mentoring the New Directions next year." He paused for breath. "But you're right, I'm... I think _we're_ all gonna miss Lima."

"I thought I was the only one who really had reason to, with Finn staying here," sighed Rachel. "I suppose I didn't really consider the impact this past year's had on all of us. Especially _us_ us," she emphasized, pointing to the three of them.

"You still have reason to come back, at least," sighed Dave. "I mean, I know my folks are here, but..."

"Lets make it a monthly pilgrimage," interrupted Kurt. "Once a month, we all come back here. Rachel spends time with Finn, and the four of us - back together again - give the next generation of glee club a reminder that they have some top notch talent among them, and they _can_ repeat this year's success."

"And we all get to see our folks, obviously," chimed in Rachel.

Dave found himself smiling at the notion. "Sounds like a good idea to me," he nodded.

"Well, now we've got _that_ sorted out, we should look forward," declared Kurt. "Rachel, you're heading out to New York to scope it out, right?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Me and my dads are heading out there."

"Mind if we join you?" smiled Kurt. Dave brightened up visibly at the notion.

"Holy crap," he mused. "The three of us could find a place together! Kurt, we wouldn't even have to worry about roommates in dorms!" he cried, beaming at the notion that their love life suddenly had the potential to get a lot less complicated.

Rachel groaned. "Can we make it somewhere with thick walls?" she winced, to laughter from the boys.

"Lets see what we can find," grinned Kurt.

* * *

><p><em>I don't know why I'm frightened<br>I know my way around here_

In the end, the trio somehow stumbled across a huge apartment in Bushwick. "My god, this is stunning," gasped Rachel.

"It's... _huge!_" squealed Kurt.

"It's like $1800 a month." Dave loved the place, but recognized there were certain financial realities they couldn't escape just by singing and dancing about them.

"But... but it's..." Rachel reluctantly began to release her grip on the notion that they could live there. "You're right," she sighed miserably. "We can't afford this."

"No, but we can," smiled Helen from behind Dave, shocking the three of them into silence. Paul nodded to confirm

"And we can certainly contribute," shrugged Hiram effortlessly. "We, uh, made a few shrewd stock purchases in the late 90s," he elaborated.

The three teens remained utterly dumbstruck.

"Oh?" asked Paul cheerfully. "What was yours?"

"We took a punt on Amazon," explained Leroy. "Rode it through the dotcom crash, and I think it's about time to cash in." Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth at the news. Her dads had _money_? Like, serious money?

"Is _that_ my college fund?!" she gasped in shock. Hiram and Leroy nodded, both wearing broad smiles.

"Nice," grinned Paul. "I went with Apple when they released the first iMac. Actually forgot I had the shares until the iPhone really started to take off."

Dave's jaw almost hit the wooden floor. "Holy shit," he gasped. "Dad, you must be _loaded!_ How much is that?"

Paul looked at Dave shrewdly. "_Enough_," he replied with a smirk, refusing to commit to a number.

"Oh my god, I'm marrying into money," snarked Kurt, absolutely deadpan.

"Hey, steady there, Anna Nicole," retorted Dave with a wicked grin. "No Ferrari for you. We'll _share_ the Lamborghini and that'll be that." The two boys giggled at the absurdity of the exchange, and the general situation. The sudden wealth had thrown them a curveball.

"Look, I've got some college money put aside," volunteered Burt, "but I don't think it matches the numbers you guys are talking about."

"Well, I saved up some for Finn," suggested Carole. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving it up since he's earning a wage himself."

As the discussion went on, Dave had taken out his phone and started tapping at the screen. "What you up to?" asked Kurt.

"Seeing how much it comes to over four years," murmured Dave, concentrating on the screen. After a moment, he looked up. "$86k. Factor in rent rises, it's more like 100. A three-way split comes to about 33." He looked at Kurt sadly. "Babe, we can't ask your dad to pay that," he sighed. "I doubt they have it after I made your family spend all that money on Dalton fees."

Helen perked up at the reminder. "Sounds like we owe the Hummels some payback, sweetheart," she grinned at Paul, a mischievous glint in her eye. She would keep these three together come hell or high water: Rachel looked after Dave during his stay at the Berrys, and Kurt's devotion to him was clear to everyone who saw the two together. Paul chuckled and nodded, seeing her plan immediately.

Burt balked at the suggestion. "C'mon, I can't ask you to pay Kurt's way!" he disputed.

"You're not asking, Burt," assured Paul. "We know you never would. We're volunteering. Eagerly."

"No, he's right," added Leroy. "You can't pay Kurt's rent _and_ Dave's." He paused. "We'll split it," he smiled. Paul raised an eyebrow, then nodded with a grin.

"No, this is getting completely out of hand!" urged Burt.

"No, if it keeps the kids together, I'm okay with this _gracious offer_," chimed in Carole, nudging Burt in the ribs. "And like Helen said, the Karofskys are clearly willing to pay us back," she smiled, offering a wink to Helen, who grinned back.

Kurt looked at Burt as though he was about to take away his car. "Dad? Please?" he begged.

Burt realized he had nobody to back him up, and chose the one course of action he felt afforded him some dignity. "Fine," he grunted. "But I'm paying for all of Kurt's other expenses. I can cover that, at least."

"Dad, you're the best!" squealed Kurt excitedly, throwing his arms around Burt as Dave lifted up Rachel and spun her around jubilantly.

"Yeah, yeah," mumbled Burt. "Tell it to me when you're makin' your name on Broadway."

_This world will be bigger  
>And brighter than we knew it<br>So watch me fly, we all know I can do it_

The three families had decided to take a closer look at the neighborhood, and Dave had immediately discovered Time Out NY's very own guide to Bushwick. From there, they stumbled across a list of bars, boutiques and restaurants, and discovered there'd be plenty to keep them occupied once they moved in.

Indie clothing boutiques. An acclaimed sushi bar. A coffee shop that claimed to host karaoke nights, which the three excitedly swore would become a regular haunt for them all.

"Just remember you kids are on a budget, okay?" demanded Burt.

"Don't worry, dad," grinned Kurt. "I promise we won't break the bank."

_We'll have early morning madness  
>We'll have magic in the making<br>Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye_

From there, they made their way to New York City, bringing the memories flooding back to Kurt and Rachel as they recalled their first shot at Nationals and their impromptu duet in the Gershwin Theater.

And suddenly, without warning, it hit them: the sense that this, right here, was where they were supposed to be. They were destined to make it here, despite Kurt's misstep with his NYADA audition, Rachel's near-miss with hers and Dave seemingly set for a horrible year from the beginning.

They'd overcome every single obstacle... and this was the reward.

_I don't want to be alone, but that's all in the past  
>This world's waited long enough<br>I've come home at last!_

"I could really _be_ here," gasped Rachel. "As in, be me, the way I'm supposed to."

"I get you," nodded Kurt. "This feels so right it's almost scary."

"I can't even picture not sharing this with you guys," breathed Dave. "It's like everything's fallen perfectly into place."

"Finn was right," nodded Rachel. "My life's going to become this huge thing. He'd only be a cause for worry, and I know he'll be okay in Lima. And... god, my life _will_ be huge here." She considered Finn's point of view. "I may just cope without him after all."

"For a month at a time, right?" smiled Kurt.

"Well, obviously," she grinned back.

_We taught the world..._

"Guys?" beamed Dave. "I think we're all gonna be okay here."

_...new ways to..._

"No, Dave," smiled Kurt. "We're going to be _amazing_."

_...dream._

FIN

* * *

><p><em>AN: And so our two heroes prepare to ride off into the sunset with Rachel in tow. Yay, happy endings!_

_Yes, I **have** thrown in a bunch of canonesque touches - you did notice that, right? Carmen's complaints about Kurt's performance that stopped him getting into NYADA first time, Finn's mentorship of New Directions, Will's work with the Blue Ribbon panel, New Directions recruiting Wade from Vocal Adrenaline... even the wrap-up for most of the characters, even if I did tweak Mercedes' ending to include Shane in Sam's absence._

_Thanks to everyone who left me feedback for me to sink my teeth into, and captainlove once again for being by beta for the last 9 or so chapters._

_This isn't the end of the PS universe, though - I have an epilogue to write, and I might visit it again for a bunch of one-shot stories._

_See you out there, folks. =)_

_- Liam_


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